


It Takes a Fool to Remain Sane

by AgnesTomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: But on a break, Depression, Eating Disorders, Harry tries to be helpful, Hospitalization, Louis Has An Eating Disorder, Louis-centric, M/M, Writing, slight suicidal thoughts, they're all in the band
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-06-02 05:38:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6553126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgnesTomlinson/pseuds/AgnesTomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe they're afraid to feel ashamed, to seem strange, to seem insane, to gain weight, to seem gay, I'll tell you this; It takes a fool to remain sane. -The Ark</p><p>Or<br/>The one where Louis is struggling with his body image and Harry has no idea.</p><p>Russian translation: https://ficbook.net/readfic/5941077</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Drenched My Fears

**Author's Note:**

> The song that Louis is writing in this fic does actually exist and is called 'It takes a fool to remain sane' and is by The Ark. This story is inspired by that song and yeah, it's been quite a long time since I posted anything I wrote so please be nice..

It's not a big thing or even a  _ thing  _ at all, he decides. He's just not as hungry or fit as he used to be and maybe those two things are linked because he doesn't  _ feel  _ very hungry when he catches a glimpse of his too big stomach or thighs in the mirror. Infact he does feel a little bit like vomiting whenever he passes a mirror and that doesn't sound very sane, he understands that but-

 

But it's not like it's a  _ thing _ , he's just not having any snacks and he doesn't eat any breakfast most days and if he can he skips lunch but he eats dinner everyday, even if his portions these days are like half of what they used to be (and maybe he skips dinner too some days but it's not all that often...). He's just not very hungry and yes, he understands that this does in fact sound like it is a  _ thing  _ and not just nothing. But it isn't a  _ thing _ . He isn't throwing up what he's been eating (except from that one time when the lads had a night in and decided on pizza, how do they think someone like  _ him  _ could eat  _ pizza _ ) and he's not exercising like a madman, although Liam likes to believe he is. But what does Liam know, really, Liam was the one who took those pills to build muscles faster even if he knew they were illegal and would cause damage. That's probably why he's down Louis' neck everytime he tries to go up a level on the treadmill, because he's jealous that Louis can run more and faster than Liam could and can, pills or no pills. Louis has never loved to exercise or like he's never liked to go to the gym. He's always loved football and P.E in school but doing pushups and running always seemed meaningless to him because it wasn't like a sport sport and that's probably why he has those gross thighs and stomach now. He wishes he had liked going to the gym more when he was younger so he could have had some kind of advantage now (not that he would have had the money to actually go to the gym before the band was formed but like he could have done push ups in his room or something). So that's why he's exercising so much now, he has a lot to catch up on.

 

And like, yes, he does feel dizzy as hell after he has finished his exercises but he also feels light, like he could fly if the wind got a hold of him. Like he could just drift away and be free.

That's his goal with this thing (it might be a thing but it's not a  _ thing _ , there's a difference), it's to be so light that he'll just drift away. He's not sure which number his scale needs to show before he'll feel like he has reached that goal but he fears it's a number he'll never reach. And he knows it's unreasonable to actually think he'll ever reach a weight where the wind will make him fly but he can dream, okay?

 

Louis drops his journal down on his lap and sighs deeply, there's a note stand in front of him on the piano that's filled with a melody he cannot write words to. The melody itself is quite simple but he has been working on it for ages and he's proud of it but he has no idea what to write to it. He wants it to be something special and something that can speak his mind and he wants it to be beautiful and he just wants the fucking perfect words.

 

His stomach lets out a loud growl and Louis wants to hit it for being so weak, it hasn't been more than two days since he last consumed any food and his stupid stomach should know that it's not that big of a deal. Besides he has drank over two litres of water already today so it should be thankful really. He takes a deep breath before taking a sip from the water bottle he has placed on the piano and his stomach lets out yet another unpleased sound. He scoffs at his and pokes himself hard where he located the sound, it makes him stomach let out another tiny sound and Louis pinches the fat that's hanging over the waistline of his sweatpants. It's bloody disgusting.

 

He had hoped, months back, when he was still naïve about his weight loss, that he would see a difference in his body once he cut down on food and exercised a bit more. There is no difference though, although he has lost 22,5 pounds since he began thinking about it and if anything, he looks fatter. He feels ashamed any time he thinks about how much he used to weight and in the back of the journal he has in his lap he can read about the journey of losing those pounds. 

 

Everyday for the past two and a half months he has written down how much he weigh. One time from when he wakes up, one at lunch and one before he goes to bed. He's written those three different numbers neatly under the date of the day and he hates to look back to where he began. He also hates to look at where he is now because he is nowhere near being perfect. He flips the journal open either way and looks down at today's entry, he already has the weight from this morning and from lunch and the numbers taunt him as he reads them. 

 

**2016-03-04**

**Morning; 121,4**

**Lunch; 121,7**

**Night;**

 

He still has a few more hours before he'll weigh himself again and he is already dreading it. He flips through the pages of the journal and tries to write some lyrics. He scribbles down sentences that makes no sense and he can feel himself growing more and more frustrated. It's stupid what he has manages to write down so far and he hates it because of how pretentious it sounds. He wishes he could be a better songwriter because he  _ loves  _ writing songs but sometimes the words just don't fucking come out the way he wants them to.

He tries to sing it along to the melody and lets out a small breath of relief because it's not a complete fail, it's just not very good. But then again, when has he ever written anything he has felt was any good.

 

Louis doesn't understand what the fans hear when they listen to the songs he has written by himself, he doesn't understand the praise they send his way and how they talk about the way his lyrics touched them. How the song  _ Home  _ made them cry and how good it is. He doesn't understand what they see in it because he's a shit writer and he hates letting other people get inside his head they way they get to when he lets them read his lyrics. He has always been one to write from his heart and not think through the words before the entire song is written and then he looks at it and hates it because he is so weak.

 

His songs show how weak he is, they let some of his deepest insecurities shine through and they say things he'd never dare to say face to face to the person they're about.

 

_ I was stumbling, looking in the dark, with an empty heart. _

 

He lets his head rest against the piano and tries to ease the headache he has had throughout the day by massaging his own temples. It doesn't seem like a day can pass anymore without him having to rely on painkillers because of the stupid recurring headaches he gets. He kind of knows they are because he isn't eating very well but if that's the prize to lose weight then it's a prize he's willing to pay.

 

A hesitant knock sounds through the door before it creaks open and reveals Harry standing in the opening, Louis lifts his head slightly and their eyes meet. Louis can't help the smile that creeps up on his face to match the one Harry's already wearing. It only takes Harry a few steps with his insanely long legs to reach Louis. Louis still doesn't understand why Harry is with him, why someone like Harry would ever even want to look in the same direction as someone like Louis. He has never been able to understand it, not back in the X-factor days when he first fell in love with the boy and not now almost six years later when he's still madly in love.

 

"How's it going? You've been up here all day..."Harry whispers into Louis hair and stares down at the notes on the piano. Louis doesn't answer, doesn't know how to and shows Harry his journal with the lyrics instead.

 

_ "Whatever happened to the funky race? _

_ A generation lost in pace _

_ -Wasn’t life supposed to be more than this? _

~~_ Maybe we will change bore for bliss?? _ ~~

~~_ I ask nothing of you _ ~~

~~_ Not even your gratitude _ ~~

~~_ It takes a fool to remain sane. _ _ " _ ~~

 

"Hey, this isn't bad you know, I really like the It takes a fool to remain sane thing, 'cause that's like very true you know. But maybe you could change the bore and bliss part to something like  _ In this kiss I'll change your bore for my bliss. _ You feel me?"

 

Louis hums quietly at the proposition.

 

_ "In this kiss I'll change your bore for my bliss, _

_ But let go of my hand and it will slip out _

_ In the sand if you don’t give me the chance _

_ To break down the walls of attitude _

_ I ask nothing of you _

_ Not even your gratitude." _ Louis sings softly and he can feel Harry's gaze burning holes in him as he does but he doesn't shrink under it because he knows it's not judgemental, knows that Harry's looking at him with his  _ Louis eyes  _ as the lads like to call them. Louis loves it when he catches Harry looking at him like that because it's in moments like that the weight he's always carrying seems to ease and the pressure of being perfect lessens a little and he can feel like he is, at least to Harry, not a total failure or nutcase.

 

"It's great babe." Harry whispers and brushes his lips against Louis' ear before kissing his cheek. "Do you think you could take a break, I have dinner ready downstairs."

 

Louis sighs and shakes his head lightly before pecking Harry's lips.

 

"I really want to get this finished tonight but you can sit in here and eat if you want?" Louis proposes the idea and he hears the small sigh Harry lets out.

 

"Babe...we haven't eaten dinner together in weeks, is there anything wrong?" his voice is concerned as he asks Louis this and Louis has to close his eyes and take a deep breath to keep himself from screaming. He's such a bad boyfriend but he can't fucking sit down and  _ eat  _ with Harry because he  _ needs  _ to lose more weight before he can allow himself to eat normally. He just can't fucking eat three meals every day, not anymore, not when he is this fat. 

 

When he feels like he has gathered enough strength to answer he clears his throat and shakes his head. 

 

"No, no, nothing is wrong I'm just not...( _ perfect, good enough to eat _ ), I eh haven't felt very hungry lately and like I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere with this lyrics and I want to finish it before I get stuck again, you know how it is ( _ I'm lying to your face and you've got no clue, how can you not see through me? How can you not understand that I'm trying to lose weight? Can't you see that I need it? _ ) I'll be down for tea later and then we can watch a movie and cuddle?( _ Please don’t hate me, please understand what I’m trying to say without actually saying it. I love you and I need you but I can’t eat with you, please accept my excuse) _ "

 

Harry hesitates and stares at Louis, this time though Louis does feel like shrinking away because Harry's gaze is concerned and a little disappointed.

 

"Yea, eh of course. I'll ehm be downstairs, I guess." comes his answer and Louis can't help but breathe out in relief. Before any of them can say anything else Harry rushes out of the room and lets the door close behind him.

Louis rests his face against the piano and the mismatched tones sound through the room. He feels like they fit the situation and his mood. He  _ hates  _ lying to Harry but he also hates his body and that hate wins every time. He can't tell Harry that he is trying to lose weight with the methods he is using or that he feels sick whenever he sees himself in the mirror because Harry would label it as a  _ thing _ . And it isn't a fucking  _ thing _ , he just wants to feel good about himself and his body and to do that he  _ has to _ lose more weight.

 

Louis lifts his head and brings his pen to the journal once again.

 

_ Maybe they're afraid to feel ashamed, _ He knows that he is afraid of it and he feels ashamed all the time, ashamed of the way he is, the way he acts, the way he is hiding under an image of being straight (an image that was forced upon him but still, he feels ashamed of it.). He feels ashamed of his body, the way it looks, the way he moves, how he’s always been more curvy and feminine than the other lads and how nothing he does seems to change it. He’s ashamed of how he feels, how scared he is of telling the truth about him and Harry, how he lets management control them and how much he cares about his looks and how much he is struggling with accepting who he is and how he looks. He’s ashamed of how ashamed he is.

 

_ to seem strange, to seem insane, _ He feels like he is losing his mind lately, has been since Zayn left, really. He doesn't really know where to turn anymore and it seems as all of his thoughts turn hateful whenever he tries to think things through or tries to find himself. He's feeling a little lost, like he doesn't know who he is anymore or who he wants to be and it's scaring him to the brink of tears. He doesn’t know if he should trust himself with his hate or if he should listen to Harry and his love. He doesn’t know whom of them that are right and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to find out. Doesn’t know how to talk about it without sounding crazy, how to talk about his thing without it becoming a  _ thing. _

 

_ to gain weight, to seem gay. _ These words are hard to write and he ereases them and rewrites them and erases them again before he lets them stay on the page. His pulse fastens and he swallows around the lump that has formed in his throat. He feels stupid about reacting this way to six words on a page but it feels as if he has written something forbidden, something that's shameful and something that leaves him naked and vulnerable under the readers’ hard judgement. He clears his throat and continues the verse.

 

_ I'll tell you this; _

_ It takes a fool to remain sane. _

He breathes out and doesn't dare to read through the text that's written on the page and just continues scribbling down lyrics, not daring to pause in case he regrets it and erases something because he's afraid of being judged.

 

He lets out a long breathe once he feels as if he’s finished and he closes his notebook and takes a couple gulps from his water. The water has turned to room temperature and doesn’t taste very good but he swallows it down and checks the time on his phone. 10:47, that’s almost two hours after the time he usually weighs himself for the last time during the day and he sighs because he knows he has to do it, Has to keep track of his weight so he doesn’t accidentally spiral out of control and gain a lot. Has to remind himself that what he is doing is actually paying of, that not eating actually has a purpose and that he’ll soon be light enough to eat again.

 

The time also tells him that Harry is probably already in bed and that Louis left him hanging once again with the promise of cuddles, tea and movie. He groans to himself and stands up quickly. He sways once he’s upright and black dots block his vision and the headache pulses inside his head. He places a hand on the top of the piano to steady himself and takes a couple of deep breaths before he walks out of the room. His sight isn’t completely clear yet but that might be because of his own stupidity of not using his glasses or contacts but he manages to make his way to the bathroom and step onto the scale.

 

**120,9**

 

He doesn’t let himself ponder over the number before writing it down in his journal and closing it once again. He brushes his teeth although the only contact they’ve had is with water and he uses the toilet and cleans his face. He then turns of the light in every room and creeps into his and Harry’s shared bedroom. The light is on in there and Harry is scribbling down things in a notebook of his own. Louis smiles slightly when Harry looks over at him.

 

“Sorry I didn’t come down earlier, writing took longer than I had planned but I think I finished it.” He whispers as an excuse and Harry smiles softly at him and motions for Louis to get into the bed with him.

 

“I figured, will you play me the song tomorrow?”

 

“I guess, I mean I would like your thoughts on it but I’m not sure I’ll like it tomorrow.” Louis whispers in answer and Harry sigh.

 

“You never like what you write but pretty much everything you write is amazing. I don’t understand why you’re so hard on yourself, you’re a great songwriter babe.” Harry whispers and now it’s Louis’ turn to sigh.

 

“I just feel like it gets too personal sometimes, you know, and it’s hard to come to terms with what I’m like actually feeling and sometimes it just doesn’t make sense, you know. Sometimes it’s just a mess of words that only I understand and why would anyone else ever want to hear that?” Louis rambles but stops himself short and sighs before speaking again. “Like what I just said, that made no sense to anyone but me and like it’s not relatable or anything. I don’t know I just don’t like anything I do at the moment.” 

 

“I think you think too much about it, the songs that come from the heart and that are personal are usually the best, even if you don’t think anyone else will be able to relate. And don’t say that babe, everything you do is amazing,  _ you’re  _ amazing.” Harry whispers and Louis is happy that the room is now dark and that Harry won’t be able to make out the frown that has taken over his face. He’s  _ not  _ amazing, not at all, quite the opposite actually and that’s something he has spent many hours thinking about but why would Harry lie to him? But then again, Louis has lied to Harry a lot the past two months so maybe it’s not that weird that Harry would be lying to him too. But why would he lie about something like that? It makes no sense to Louis and he sighs quietly and hums an answer to make Harry drop the subject.

 

They both stay silent after that and Harry whispers a quiet ‘Good night’ which Louis whispers back equally quiet. It doesn’t take long for Harry to fall asleep and Louis listens to his heavy breaths and tries to fall asleep himself but all he can focus on is the pain in his stomach and how cold he is. He is bloody freezing both inside and outside and he wants to scream to make his voice match the pain in his stomach. He just can’t take it, not with Harry laying calmly beside him without any idea of the demons in Louis’ head.

  
His thoughts tire him out at last and makes him fall into a restless sleep. He hopes that tomorrow will be better.


	2. Don't Think Twice, Do What You Have To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis starts to question what he is doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you wanted me to continue this and I wanted to do it too soo... Here's part two, it's a little shorter but whatever.

The days pass slowly after that and nothing really improves, except from that Louis loses almost ten pounds in three weeks. That’s the only thing in his life that is moving rapidly and Louis is so happy about it.

 

Yesterday he spent over an hour just looking at himself in the mirror, running his fingers over the ribs that seem to be sticking out a bit more but still not enough. He fears that it will never be enough. And Harry has noticed, he frowned one day when they were cuddling and he had his arm around Louis middle as if he was wondering where Louis had gone. He hadn’t made a comment about it though and Louis doesn’t know whether he should be thankful or not.

 

Because he  _ knows  _ is the thing, he is aware that what he is doing to himself isn’t healthy and that he might be fucking up his body for good by doing this but it feels so good. It feels good to have the hunger pains clawing his insides and to have his vision clouded over whenever he stands up too fast (it happens almost all the time now and he has to sit back down and take deep breaths while counting to ten before he can manage to get up again.) but it’s so much fun. Maybe fun isn’t the right word because what it really is, is scary but he’s not afraid because he choose this and he doesn’t have to worry about not being small enough for his jeans (he’s too small for all of them now and he can’t even think about wearing Harry’s because he would drown in them). But he is finally small and it’s wonderful.

 

So fucking wonderful.

 

But it won’t last, he knows it won’t. He knows that eventually he’ll have to eat more than celery to get through the day and that he’ll need to eat if he wants to live. But when he really thinks about it he isn’t very sure about whether he wants to live or not…

 

It’s not like he  _ wants  _ to die but, if that’s what it takes to be skinny then he might as well just die. It doesn’t really scare him, because he feels as if death is the path he has been walking further down the past six months and that he is kind of ready for it. But, he doesn’t want to leave Harry or his family or the band, he just wants a break from being himself.

 

The song he wrote all those weeks ago became a total flop, he didn’t let Harry read through it or hear it. He just let it stay in his journal where it’d never see the light of day or reach anyone’s ears ever. Harry didn’t understand why Louis wouldn’t show it and Louis isn’t too sure either why he choose to leave it like that but… He read it through in the morning and the words seemed too raw and he just couldn’t stand the thought of anyone ever reading that and knowing that he, Louis Tomlinson, was the one who wrote it.

 

He hasn’t really written anything since that day. Of course he still writes down his weight and scribbles down thoughts and the like but he doesn’t  _ write.   _ It frustrates him to no end that he isn’t writing, because he loves to write and it’s the only way for him to escape reality. But he’s scared that if he does write, he won’t like what he has written. He’s scared that the words on the page will match the way he feels or what he sees in the mirror and he just can’t stand the thought of having to face that. So he doesn’t write.

 

He exercises instead. And now he might have to agree with Liam that he is working out like a madman, because he is. He runs every morning and he does lots of push-ups and he runs some more and he pushes himself to the point of throwing up and crying but it feels so amazing. He loves the constant ache he has in his muscles and the way they burn when he’s working out. And how he knows that he is working out more than he is eating and that it will result in weight loss. He loves being able to decide and to actually be able to do something about it for once.

 

It’s a control thing, he has figured. Why he isn’t eating and why he’s exercising. He can  _ choose  _ if he wants to eat or not and he can choose if he’s going to run or not. It’s his choice and when he chooses not to eat or to run, he gets rewarded by the number on the scale going down. He can measure his accomplishments and no one else has to know. It’s his own little getaway and something that he gets to control all by himself.

 

At the moment he is sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, looking at the toilet as if it has offended him deeply. He doesn’t know how long he has been in there or why he hasn’t gotten up and walked away yet. But the thing is that he ate lunch with Harry and he just felt so bad after it so he went and puked it up and now he’s not sure what he’s doing anymore. It doesn’t feel much like he’s in control when his mind is screaming at him for how fat and disgusting he is because he ate. He didn’t feel in control when he rushed to the bathroom and forced himself to throw up the salad he ate.

 

Throwing up is not something he likes or would ever say that he chooses to do. It didn’t feel like a choice when he threw up his lunch. He only threw it up because his mind told him to and because he felt bad for eating. It scares him a little because he knows that it is not normal or sane or healthy to  _ make  _ yourself puke. That is something that people with eating disorders and people who  _ aren’t  _ in control does. But Louis  _ is  _ in control, he swears he is. He has to be.

 

If he isn’t in control then he’s not sure if this not eating thing is worth it. He won’t become an eating disorder case, he’s just losing some pounds. Maybe not in the healthiest way but in the way he  _ choose  _ to. If he was sick then it wouldn’t be a choice anymore. It would have been taken from him. But how does he know if he has crossed the line of a diet or eating disorder, how does he know when it’s too much? Maybe he doesn’t want to know. And he can’t tell anyone is the thing, because he knows they’ll label what he’s doing as an eating disorder but-. 

 

But they don’t understand, they don’t know how much he is suffering in his own body and how he needs some kind of relief, some kind of control and validation. The numbers ticking down on the scale, the hunger pains, the choices he gets- they give him that. They make him feel okay and better than he’d ever feel by talking to someone. He needs to do this to keep his sanity. He just has to.

 

With a deep sigh Louis slowly stands up and tries to ignore how dizzy he feels and how his stomach protests. He washes his face with some cold water and dries it off. He avoids looking at himself in the mirror and hurries out of the bathroom, closing the wooden door behind him.

 

Harry is sitting on their bed and looks up from his phone when he hears Louis enter.

 

“You were in there for quite a while.” Harry says with a pointed look and Louis crosses his arms over his stomach and shrugs lightly.

 

“Kind of lost track of time.” he mumbles in answer and ignores the concerned look that always seems to be on Harry’s face nowadays. He gives him a tight smile but walks over to the bed and sits down beside his boyfriend. Pride fills him when the bed barely dips under his weight.

 

“You’d tell me if there was something going on, yeah? ‘Cause like I know you hate to talk about these kinds of things but I’m worried about you, Lou, and I just  _ need  _ to know if you’re okay or not.” Harry says and it’s probably the fastest Louis has ever heard him speak and he has to take a moment to take in what Harry just said.  _ He knows that something is wrong, he wants to know what it is. He wants to know about my diet and he’ll stop me and I will lose the control I’ve worked so hard to get. _

 

“Babe… You don’t have to worry about me, I’m as good as ever, really. You know I’d tell you if something bad was happening, you just gotta trust me.” the words taste worse than the vomit he threw up earlier and his head is screaming at him to stop lying at the same time as it’s telling him how this was the right thing to say. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

 

He knows he had to lie to make Harry not question him and force him to get help. If he had told Harry the truth then he wouldn’t be able to continue with his choices and he’d be helpless once again. He  _ needs  _ to stay in control. And he can’t do that if someone else knows.

 

But then again, he  _ lied  _ to Harry. To his boyfriend. What kind of boyfriend lies to their partner? He’s always valued trust and honesty highly and now he’s going against all of his values.  But he just can’t tell Harry the truth, he doesn’t want to. And if that makes him a bad boyfriend, then so be it. At least he’s in control.

 

Harry only nods to Louis’ words and sighs a little before standing up.

 

“I told Nick I’d drop by, so I’ll leave now. There’s food in the fridge if you get hungry, you barely touched your lunch.” Harry informs and Louis nods and thanks him, although he knows very well that the food will stay in the fridge until Harry eats it or throws it out.

 

Harry leaves then and Louis is alone. He’s alone and he would  _ love  _ to go to sleep for a while or to just stop existing for a while. He starts doing push ups instead and he keeps doing them until he isn’t sure how many he has done and his arms are screaming and his body just gives up and he falls to the floor. He lays there and tries to catch his breath, tries to calm his heart that feels like it’s going to burst through his ribcage. 

 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore when he crawls his way back to the bathroom and throws up some more. He doesn’t know if he could have stopped himself if he had wanted. He doesn’t know if what he is doing to himself is worth it or not.

 

He just doesn’t know anymore.


	3. In This World All Covered Up in Shame

He cries when he drops below ninety pounds. He cries his eyes out and his lungs are aching and he knows he is sobbing loudly. He feels awful. Really fucking awful. Dropping below a ninety pounds was never supposed to happen, much less to weigh 87 pounds. It was not what he wanted when he started doing this.

 

To weigh less than ninety is fucking sick. Normal people don’t do that. Fit people don’t do that. Not even naturally skinny people do that. He weighs less than most of his sisters and it’s scaring him. It’s scaring him enough to make him cry like a baby and make him wish that he never fucking stopped eating. People in control don’t let themselves drop below ninety.

 

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if he should tell Harry or not, he doesn’t even know how to breathe. He’s choking on his own sobs and he feels so tired and everything hurts and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. How he let it go this far.

 

Someone is frantically knocking on the bathroom door and Louis knows it’s Harry, knows that Harry can hear him crying. But he’s too fucking tired and scared to open the goddamned door and let his boyfriend help him. He doesn’t know how to let him help him. How does he even explain what’s wrong. How can he tell his boyfriend that he weighs less than a kid does, that his BMI is at 12,9? And that he is now classified as severe underweight? How does one tell someone else that? He can barely let himself accept it so why and how would anyone else?

 

He does open the door eventually and falls into Harry’s open arms and continues to cry his eyes out. He can feel Harry crying as well and it makes him hate himself a little bit more. Because he made his boyfriend cry and worry. The person he is supposed to care for and give his all is now crying because of him. He’s such a fucking disappointment. But… Harry is whispering things to him, telling him that it’s alright, that he can take his time, to let it all out. Louis merely nods against Harry’s chest and tries to calm down a little.

 

Somehow they move from the bathroom to their bedroom and Harry helps him sit down on the bed. They face each other and Louis has to bite his lip to stop himself from starting to sob again.

 

Harry’s eyes are calm, although they are rimmed red and he has tearstained cheeks, he looks concerned but calm and Louis loves him so much. Loves that he knows that Louis needs one of them to keep their cool and to not freak out. They breathe together for a while, Harry sensing that Louis still isn’t calm enough to talk and Louis trying to buy some more time so he can figure out how to explain this.

 

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Harry is the one to break the silence and Louis sniffs a little but nods. He is going to tell Harry, because Harry deserves to know and Louis too scared to keep doing this on his own. He has been hiding this far too long and there is no escape now. He has to tell him. Louis looks down and plays with the sweater paws of his shirt, maybe it’s Harry’s, probably.

 

“I.. well..I...eh..it’s..” Louis sighs. “I don’t really know how to tell you or what to even say. God, I didn’t think this would be so hard. I’m so sorry Haz, so so fucking sorry. I’ve messed up big time.” Louis says, his voice shaking more than he thought was possible and a few tears make their way down his cheeks but he can’t find it in himself to care about that now. He doesn’t care about how weak he is being and how pathetic he must look, because it is all true. In this moment he is weak and pathetic, but Harry is still with him. Harry dries the tears on his cheeks and touches him so gently.

 

“What have you done, babe? We can work it out, I promise you, just tell me what’s going on.” Harry pleads and Louis shakes his head, making Harry drop his hand from his cheek. His cheek instantly feels colder and he feels so much further away from Harry. It’s crazy how they can sit just a few inches from each other and Louis still feels so alone and out of reach.

 

“I don’t know if we can work this out Haz, I’ve fucked up so bad and I’m so scared Harry.” he whispers and Harry takes his hands in his own, flinching a bit at how cold Louis hands are and Louis manages a small smile because he knows. He knows his hands are freezing and are quite unpleasant to touch, he knows that he made them that way. He takes a shaky breath to calm himself before speaking again. “I know that you’ve been worried about me lately and that I’ve just brushed you off and acted really weird… I have a reason for that, a fucking stupid one and you have every right to be worried, I’m worried about me too right now.” the words rush out off his mouth without him having a chance to control them and Harry is looking at him with concerned but calm eyes and Louis takes a deep breath. “I’ve been losing weight...in a really stupid and unhealthy way and...and I don’t know how to stop and I’m just so scared because I haven’t even noticed that it was as bad as it is and I’ve found so many excuses to why I’ve been doing this, found so many ways to justify it, but there is no justifying my weight now. It’s terrifying because I thought I had control, Harry, I thought I was doing good, but now I weight less than a hundred pounds and I still can’t see a difference. I’m so so sorry Harry.”

 

Harry pulls him into a hug and Louis knows that they’re both crying again. They stay like that for a while and Louis finally feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, the irony of it makes him smile sadly. Because he has been trying to get the weight off him for so long and all he had to do was speak with Harry.  Harry knows now. He told him and that’s all he can do for now.

 

“Why did you start? Was it something I did?” Harry asks eventually and Louis shrugs.

 

“It wasn’t something you did, don’t worry about that. And I don’t really know why or how it started, I just couldn’t stand seeing myself in the mirror anymore. God, that sounds awful and I don’t know why I suddenly felt that way, but you know I’ve always struggled a bit with my self image… And with all of this shit with the fake baby and Zayn leaving and all of this just got too much, I guess. And my weight was something I could change, yeah? I could control that, easily lose a few pounds by restricting my eating and exercising more, so I did that. And it was fucking great. I was so happy to finally being able to make a change with something I was unhappy about. I didn’t like my body so I changed it, but then I kept changing it and restricted myself more and I started disliking my body even more. And it didn’t feel like a choice anymore. I didn’t feel like I was in control, but I didn’t want to tell anyone because you would make me stop and that would shatter the control I had built. But the control was already lost and now I’m not sure what to do anymore.”

 

“We will work this out babe, we will talk with someone who can help you and I’ll be with you on every step. It breaks my heart to know that you feel that way and I hate that I didn’t push harder to get to know what was really going on. I’m so sorry I failed you.”

 

“You didn’t fail me, Haz. I’m the one who fucked up. I wish I had talked to you about it sooner.” Louis whispers.

 

“What made you change your mind about telling me?” Harry asks quietly, as if he’s afraid to know the answer.

 

“I… I checked my weight, as I usually do, and found out that I was at ehh… I weigh fucking 87 pounds and it freaked me out because I know it’s bad to weigh under a ninety and I don’t know, it just made me realize how fucked up I was.”

 

Harry lets out a quiet gasp and pulls Louis into a hug, they both start crying again and Louis lets himself be held. He ignores the irony of how much lighter he feels now that Harry knows. It feels good to have someone to share his burden with and to have someone who on some kind of level understands what he is going through. It feels like it’s easier to breathe and to just be alive.

 

Louis knows this won’t be easy, he knows that he still doesn’t want to put any kind of food inside of him and that he, although he doesn’t want to weigh this little, doesn’t want to gain weight. He doesn’t want to lose the control he imagines himself having. But he is going to have to. If he wants to stay alive he has to give the illusion of reaching perfection go. And he feels as if somehow it will all work out fine.

 

He really hopes it will.


	4. Take it to the Stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what happened here... Thank you all for your feedback and support, it makes me very happy xx

Louis does honestly wish he never told Harry. It’s been four days since he told him and he feels as if he’s going insane.

 

Harry googled things about eating disorders and has now hid/thrown (Louis isn’t sure which one, because Harry won’t fucking  _ tell  _ him) the scale. This frustrates Louis to no end because weighting himself was part of his daily routine and it fucking sucks to not be able to do that. He feels as if he’s already gained twenty pounds, because Harry is now making sure they both sit down and  _ eat  _ together. Louis has been eating three ( _ three!)  _ meals a day and okay, it’s not like Harry is forcing him to eat pasta or  a hamburger, it’s mostly light meals like salmon salad or other “healthy” meals. But it’s still too much, it’s too  _ fucking  _ much, so Louis throws it up. He’s not proud of it, but he can literally see no other possible way to handle all this  _ food.  _ He just can’t eat it and be okay with that. It doesn’t work like that,  _ he  _ doesn’t work like that. Louis can’t eat. Simple as that.

 

Harry doesn’t know about the throwing up, of course he doesn’t. And yes, Louis does feel slightly bad for keeping that away from him, but still. What did Harry expect? That Louis would be able to eat three meals a day, not weigh himself or exercise? Yea, right.

 

That’s another thing, Harry won't’ let Louis do any kind of exercise or anything that can burn off those disgusting calories that are packing in his body. The calories that Louis so badly needs to work off.

 

He’s restless to say the least and he feels so out of control that he doesn’t know where to turn. And he’s so mad is the thing. He’s so fucking mad at himself for caving in and telling Harry about his diet thing (it’s not an  _ eating disorder _ ). He doesn’t understand what he was thinking. Maybe a bit, because he knows he’s fucking terrified that he dropped below ninety pounds (he probably weighs more than it now), but when he really thinks about it, was it really that much of a big deal? Ninety pounds is very little, he can admit that, but does that number matter if his belly is still hanging over the waistband of his pants or when his thighs are still touching each other? The number on the scale doesn’t match his reflection in the mirror so that number is useless really and he shouldn’t have freaked out about it. He should have written the number down like any other day and then moved on and kept  _ fucking  _ going. Not caving in and “admitting” that he has a disorder that he doesn’t even have!

 

He’s so angry with himself that he doesn’t really know what to do.

 

The radio in the car is sounding lowly and Louis can make out Harry singing along to it in the driver's seat, but instead of appreciating his boyfriend’s beautiful voice, Louis feels annoyed. He wishes that Harry could be quiet so Louis could have some kind of peace. And he wishes they weren’t driving to a doctor’s appointment he doesn’t need nor want. He wished he was home with an empty stomach (he did throw up before they left, but it’s not the same as never having had anything in it) and he wishes his muscles were aching from the exercise they had gotten.

 

But you won’t always get what you wish for, which is why they’re now pulling up in the parking lot of the restricted area of the hospital and Louis feels like vomiting again (he takes some pride in knowing that there is nothing left for him to throw up, he has made sure of that).

 

“Are you ready?” Harry’s voice is gentle and he’s looking at Louis with his stupid green concerned eyes and Louis fights the urge to scream at him. Tell him that this is stupid and that they shouldn’t be here. That Harry is wrong to be worried about him and that he is totally fine as he is,, that he doesn’t need any help. He just needs to lose weight.

 

Louis gives Harry a tight smile in response and a nod that can barely even count as a nod, before he leaves the car and ignores the dizzy spell that hits him once he’s upright.

 

Harry doesn’t try to start a conversation with him as they walk into the hospital and Louis lets the silence wash over him. There’s some kind of strange overwhelming feeling that comes with the silence of a hospital and it surrounds you until it’s all you can feel. Louis can feel the silence of those who have spent time in here and whom have suffered or even died in here. It’s the silence of the voices who can no longer be heard. It’s the silence of the victims loved ones, their family, their friends, their partner, everyone who has lost someone and who can no longer find the words to express what they’re feeling.  

 

He doesn’t want to be a part of that. He’s not a  _ victim  _ , he doesn’t have an eating disorder. No one has to worry about him or help him. He’s  _ fine _ .

 

They don’t even need to announce that they’ve arrived because the doctor spots them as soon as they walk into the waiting area and shows them into his office. Louis feels as if he’s going to be sick when they sit down and the doctor gives them both a sympathetic smile that does nothing to ease Louis’ mind.

 

“Tell me why you’re here today Mr Tomlinson.” the doctor who earlier presented himself as Dr Graham says and Louis holds back a deep sigh and shrugs.

 

“I’m here because I’ve lost some weight and overreacted and ended up worrying Harry, there’s not really much to discuss I don’t think.” Louis answers and refuses to look in Harry’s direction because he knows that Harry knows he’s lying. He doesn’t need to look at Harry to know that he’s frowning and trying to make sense of why Louis would lie. 

 

“When you say ‘some weight’, how much are we talking about then?” the doctor asks and Louis shrugs, the lies coming easy to him.

 

“A few pounds, ten tops, don’t really know, didn’t really keep track of my weight.”

 

“Alright then Mr Tomlinson, have you noticed yourself withdrawing from food or have you recently picked up any unusual habits around food and eating?” Louis doesn’t know if the lies he told has fooled the doctor or not, it’s hard to tell when the man hasn’t changed his facial expression since they started talking.

 

“No, not that I can recall. Maybe I’ve felt a little less hungry, but I’ve been eating.” Louis lies and he can tell that Harry is about to interrupt and tell the truth but much to Louis’ surprise the doctor silences Harry with a look. 

 

“Is there anything else about your health that has been lacking, Mr Tomlinson? Have you felt dizzy, cold, tired, or any other symptoms?”

 

“A little colder than usual I think, but I’ve always been on the colder side, poor blood circulation.” that part is true, Louis is always the first one to complain about a room being too cold or be the first to wear an extra jumper. This is something that has lead to many disagreements among the boys in the band, since the rest of them are either a little too warm or content in the room Louis finds cold, so the discussion of whether or not the windows should be closed is an unsolved question.

 

“Do you do any exercise?” the doctor asks, breaking Louis’ train of thoughts.

 

“Oh, yea… Ehm I’ve recently started going to the gym so I’m usually there maybe four times a week.” it’s more like twice a day, although now he hasn’t been there in almost five days. He really needs to work out more.

 

“Very well then, I would like to take a blood sample, take your blood pressure and your height and weight, so if you would follow me I’ll get a nurse to check you out.” the doctor stands up and Louis swallows because he knows he’s fucked now. He did read about how eating disorder patients would drink a lot or hide weights in their clothes before they got their weight checked, but Louis didn’t think it would be necessary, he thought he could talk his way out of it and get the doctor to believe nothing was wrong and therefor not take any tests.

 

“I eh… Is that really necessary?” Louis aks unsteadily and the smile the doctor gives him confirms that the doctor already knows Louis has been lying.

 

“It’s just to make sure there really isn’t anything wrong with you, Mr Tomlinson. And if you’ve been truthful, you’ll have nothing to worry about. Now if you’d follow me we’ll get this done smoothly.”

 

Louis stands up shakily and sighs but nods his agreement to Dr Graham. Louis hears Harry stand up beside him and soon feels his boyfriend’s larger hand gently grip his own cold one. It feels like Harry’s trying to transfer some of his own strength to Louis or as if he’s trying to convince him that it will be alright. And Louis should be thankful for this, right? He should be happy that his boyfriend is there for him and is trying to help him. But Louis doesn’t feel happy, he feels like ripping his hand from Harry’s and screaming at him for ruining his life and forcing him to get help with something he doesn’t want nor need help with. He feels like hitting Harry and crying and locking himself into a room and never get out again. He feels like he needs to escape the country and find somewhere quiet where he never needs to eat again and no one can judge him or tell him that he should eat. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want help. He doesn’t want a supportive boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be in a band. He doesn’t want fame. He doesn’t want a fake girlfriend. He doesn’t want a fake baby. He doesn’t want to hide who he is or who he loves. He just wants to feel the hunger pains claw their way through his stomach. He wants to be so dizzy that he can barely sit up. He wants his scale to show a two digits number. He wants to see someone in the mirror that he can be proud of.

 

Louis does barely notice them entering a new room and sitting down again. He feels completely out of it when the nurse takes a couple of blood samples or when she checks his blood pressure and informs Harry and the doctor that it is very low, he hears her ask him if he has eaten anything today but Louis doesn’t answer and after a couple of awkward seconds Harry does for him and tells the nurse and doctor that they had breakfast before they came here. Louis can see the nurse frown and he has to keep himself from smiling because he knows there are no traces of that breakfast left in him, that he managed to throw up every single bite he had of it.

 

The nurse tells him to stand against the wall and she measures him while Louis keeps his eyes unfocused towards the window. His mind is completely blank when she says the number out loud and she has to tell him twice for him to understand she wants him to step onto the scale. Louis hesitates and he takes one deep breath before stepping onto it.

**81.18**

It feels as if everyone is holding their breath when the nurse reads out the number and Louis can’t help but feel confused. He has lost weight since Harry found out? He has lost eight pounds in a few days? Louis can hear Harry let out a gasp and Louis can feel his lips twist into a smile that he can’t control from taking place in his face. He knows he shouldn’t be happy about these news, he should be terrified to be honest but he feels relieved and proud over it instead. He was so scared that he had gained a shitload of weight in these past days but instead he has dropped another eight pounds.

  
The doctor clearing his throat is what makes Louis snap out of his thoughts and step down from the scale. He forces the smile off from his lips and turns to face Harry and the doctor. Harry has tears in his eyes and the doctor is looking concerned when he tells them that they can go back to his office to discuss these news. Harry doesn’t hold his hand on the way back.


	5. Break Down the Walls of Attitude

The silence is awkward once they sit back down in the doctor’s office and Louis feels like crawling out of his own skin. He’s embarrassed for sure, he  _ hates  _ being called out when he’s lying and he also knows he’s in some deep shit now that not only does Harry know about his stupid diet but also a professional doctor knows. He doesn’t know what to do.

 

“Will you answer my questions truthfully this time, Mr Tomlinson?” the doctor asks and Louis takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and nods. He knows he can’t talk his way out of this now. “Good, now tell me about your eating habits since you started losing weight.”

Louis looks down at his hands and tries to remember when he actually started losing weight. He has been doing this for quite some time now and in the beginning he didn’t think much of it, there wasn’t really much to think about.

 

“In the beginning I just started cutting some things out  from my diet, no sodas or sweets, no extra servings or like fast foods. I just tried to eat a little more healthy and I lost like a few pounds, not a lot, maybe three and ehm it felt good but not enough. So I didn’t eat breakfast and if I could I would skip lunch and then I would eat dinner with Harry, if Harry wasn’t home I wouldn’t eat anything. I drank a lot of water instead and if I got hungry I’d eat some fruit or vegetables. This went on for like maybe two or three months and then I just never ate a full meal, only something small whenever I got too dizzy and I’ve been doing that for little less than two months now.” Louis’ voice is quiet when he explains this and he can hear the doctor scribble down notes while he speaks and he can tell that Harry is trying very hard not to sound like he’s completely breaking down (which Louis knows he is). It’s silent for a few more seconds except from the doctor’s scribbling and then he looks up and nods.

 

“Have you ever forced yourself to throw up or used laxatives or any other ways to get the food you’ve consumed out of your system?”

 

“I’ve thrown up a few times, ehm before I told Harry it happened quite a lot whenever I ate but it wasn’t always voluntary? I would just feel very ill and I couldn’t keep the food down.” Louis pauses, glances at Harry who is staring at the wall opposite to him, Louis sighs and looks back down at his hands. “I’ve made myself throw up everything I’ve eaten this week.”

Harry’s head snaps in his direction when Louis confesses and Louis can feel the hurt radiating from Harry’s body and how he’s itching to scream at him, to ask him why he would do that,  _ how  _ he could do that.Louis kind of wishes Harry would do just that, scream at him, be angry, hate him. Anything that can make Louis hurt as much as he knows he has hurt Harry. He wants Harry to get back at him. Louis knows he betrayed Harry, made him feel like he was getting better when in fact he was just burying himself deeper into the ground.

“And I’ve also been working out a lot, which I guess counts? I would spend hours every day doing exercises just to burn off calories, even if I hadn’t eaten.”

 

The doctor nods and finishes off his notes.

 

“Well, you’ve got yourself into quite the mess here. But you’ve already passed the first step of recovery: admitting your problem and getting help. That’s way further than many other eating disorder sufferers get. Now, your condition is quite severe and it would be best for you to stay at the hospital and get an IV hooked up to you and some light food in you so you can reach a less dangerous weight. It is also to make sure you get somewhat on track with your food consumption and to give you tips about how to approach your disorder. You will get a diet plan once you leave the hospital and we will also recommend you get some therapeutic help. How does that sound?” the doctor asks, but it doesn’t feel much like question, more like a statement of how it’s going to be. Louis swallows hard and tries to keep the frown off his face.

 

“Do I need to stay at the hospital? Can’t I just get the eh diet plan and work with it at home?”

 

“Your condition is severe, Mr Tomlinson, you are at a very dangerous weight and if you were to lose even a pound more there is no guarantee your heart would be able to keep up. You have put a lot of pressure on your heart since your illness took over and I wouldn’t be surprised if your kidneys are damaged as well. Your fluid and salt balance is also probably very bad. That’s why you need to stay at the hospital. We will also need to take a closer look into just which type of eating disorder you suffer from so you can get the best possible help.” the doctor explains and Louis sighs but nods.

 

“For how long will I need to stay here?” he asks.

 

“I can’t say anything for certain, it all depends on how cooperative you are and what results we get from your blood work. But at least two weeks, probably more. It would be for your own benefit if you decided to get help at a rehab once you’re released from the hospital,, the help there is much more effective than the one for outdoor patients. I could recommend a few places if you’re interested?”

 

“No. No rehab, I don’t want that. I want to be home.” Louis answers firmly, he does not want to go to a rehab. He doesn’t care if the treatment there is better, having nurses forcing him to eat and to be around other eating disorder patient does not sound nice to him. He’s not going to rehab.

 

“Louis… maybe we should consider the option before you refuse it? I mean, you don’t have to go to a rehab, but let’s not rule it out just yet.” Harry speaks for the first time since they got back to the room and Louis can hear the underlying sadness in his voice, laced with hurt and betrayal.

 

“Mr Styles does have a point here. Many e.d patients do find themselves refusing indoor care when they’re first admitted, but you will find yourself thinking differently once you’re out of the hospital. Eating dísorders are serious things and should not be taken lightly, it is easier to relapse if you’re an outdoor patient and there is nothing that says you’ll recover if you do relapse.” the doctor says and Louis can feel frustrated tears build up in his eyes and he bites down hard on his bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

 

The thing is, he knows all of this. He knows he has put himself in a situation that can end with his death and he knows that he should do everything in his power to stop it from happening. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to get locked up in a home full of others like him. He doesn’t want to have to stay at the hospital until he has reached and “acceptable” weight. He doesn’t want to get a diet plan that will force him to eat too many calories three times again, plus snacks. He doesn’t want to see the number on his scale go up and he doesn’t want to see his body fill out. He doesn’t want to get fatter than he is. And yet he knows that he isn’t  _ fat  _ knows that he is seriously underweight and he knows that he can’t stay the way he is. But he is so goddamned scared to do something about it.

 

He doesn’t notice he has tears streaming down his face until he feels Harry’s arms around him and hears his soothing whispers in his ear. He lets himself go then and starts sobbing loudly. He doesn’t care about the doctor who is sitting a few feet away or that he is leaving tear and snot stains all over Harry’s shirt. He just cries and lets himself be held.

 

“I don’t want to die.” he whispers against Harry’s shoulder, once he’s calm enough to talk again.

 

“You’re not going to die. You’re gonna get all the help and support you need, I’m gonna be with you every step of your recovery, the good and the bad. It’s going to be alright, no matter if you choose outdoor or indoor care, you don’t have to make a decicion right now, babe. And you’re allowed to change your mind if you choose one of them and end up disliking it, whatever you need.” Harry whispers and traces circles all over Louis back. Harry kind of wants to stop doing it because he is certain that he can feel each one of Louis’s ribs through the thick fabric and he would be lying if he didn’t say that it disturbed him. He can’t understand when all of this happened, how he didn’t notice it earlier, how he could let hhis boyfriend go so bad. He feels stupid and angry for not seeing it before, and he’s angry at Louis. Angry that he kept it to himself for so long, that he didn’t trust Harry enough to tell him what was going on. And that Louis this week lied and pretended that things were okay but in reality he sneaked off and threw up everything Harry made. He feels so betrayed and angry that Louis would do something like that. And also that he today, lied to the doctor about his condition. Harry understands somewhat that it is Louis’s disorder speaking whenever a lie comes out of his mouth, but he can’t really fully understand it. He doesn’t understand how Louis can still refuse help when he looks like he’s about to fall over if a breeze comes his way, when he’s at a weight Harry hasn’t been at since he was ten. It’s driving him mad to see his boyfriend being so lost.

 

“I could die, one more pound or one more relapse and my heart could stop. It could stop right here and now. I could literally die any second, there’s no guarantee that I will live through the week, and there’s noone but myself to blame for that. Harry, I’ve fucked up so bad, I’ve fucked up, I’ve fucked up, I’ve fucked up.” Louis mumbles and his mind drifts back to the conversation they had about a week ago when he confessed what he had been doing for the past months. He remembers how scared he was and he can still feel that fear, creeping up inside of him and filling every cell of his body. He is terrified, of what he has done, what he is doing, what he will do. He doesn’t understand how it could all happen and if he doesn’t understand that then how will he ever be able to get passed it? Maybe he will always  be like this.

 

“Don’t say that, love. We will get you healthy, we’ll get through this together. You haven’t done anything we can’t fix. We’ll be alright.” Harry whispers and Louis wishes he could believe him, he really does, but there is no guarantee that what Harry says is true. Louis doesn’t truly even know if it is what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is a mess, but so am I so I mean, whatever.


	6. It's Your Right to Laugh at Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to feel about this chapter...Thanks for the support though, means a lot

He has to stay at the hospital. His BMI is too low and the results from the tests they took yesterday didn’t come back with good news. His blood sugar is extremely low and his kidneys aren’t working as well as they should, something the doctor said they’d have to keep a close eye on. And on top of it all he has gotten osteoporosis, his low intake (does it even count as an intake even?) of dairy products among many other essential foods has weakened his bones. All in all he isn’t feeling very well.

 

Harry is sitting on the stool beside Louis’ hospital bed, and Louis thinks he can see the familiar blocks of Tetris falling down on the screen. They haven’t really spoken a lot since they settled in the room and it is driving Louis insane. He knows and understands that Harry is mad at him. Fuck, he’s also mad at himself. He lied to a doctor as a way to continue being self-destructive, when he had already broken down in front of Harry and told him what was going on. He feels stupid for it now, in this moment, when he knows all the complications he has brought upon himself by starving. He hadn’t thought of the side effects, he had just wanted the number on the scale to go down. He wanted to have that control. But now he’s not in control anymore. He’s being fed nutritious by a tube in his hand and he’s in danger of kidney failure and breaking bones. Not to mention that his heart is under a lot of stress because of how hard it has to fight since he hasn’t been treating his body right. He has fucked up.

 

“Should I call my mum?” he asks quietly, not sure if he wants Harry to hear. It has been bugging him since he told Harry about his disorder, the fact that he hasn’t mentioned his well being, or lack of well being,  to his own mother. He’s scared to tell her, because he knows she’ll be disappointed and sad, but he also feels as if she deserves to know, and that she will want to know. Harry looks up from his phone and pauses his game.

“Probably.” is all he says as an answer and Louis takes a deep breath before he meets Harry’s eyes.

 

“You’re mad at me.” Louis states and Harry sighs and looks away, shakes his head, and looks back.

 

“I’m not mad, I should be, I want to be. You  _ lied _ , I thought you were doing good and eating, thought you wanted to get better, but you threw up. You didn’t even try, Louis. And then you went and fucking lied to the doctor, when it is so painfully obvious to everyone how skinny and sick you are. I just don’t understand why or how you could do that.” Harry says and Louis can feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, and he can see how Harry’s eyes are glazed over with a thin sheet of tears.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I lied to you and the doctor. I don’t really know how to explain it to you, if I even can. But it’s like, one moment I’m terrified and I want to get better, but the next I don’t want anyone to know about it and to just be able to continue doing it. It’s not that I didn’t want to get better, I just … I’m fucking scared of gaining weight and it sounds pathetic. And I know you and the doctors say that I’m skinny, and I can like understand it perfectly when I see the numbers on the scale, or of my BMI… But I don’t see it in me? Does that make sense? ‘Cause like, logically I know I’m extremely skinny, but I can’t see it, I just can’t.” Louis admits and exhales shakily.

 

“You… I… I forgive you, the lying and you not being able to see the changes of your body, it’s all part of your disorder. I shouldn’t be mad at you for that, you can’t really control it, I guess. But it’s frustrating, you know. Because I’ve watched you sinking deeper and deeper into this disorder, I knew you were losing weight, but I came up with all kinds of excuses for it;  _ ‘He’s probably just stressed’ , ‘It’s probably the lightning’, ‘I’m just thinking too much’.  _ I could see all of the signs, but I just didn’t want to piece them together. And I’m mad at myself for not pushing the issue further, because I did ask you if you were alright, and I knew you weren’t, but I just let it slip and let you get away with your lies.” Harry says and tears run down his cheeks and he angrily wipes them away.

 

“I’m so sorry for making you feel like that, I don’t want you to blame yourself. You shouldn’t blame yourself. I wouldn’t have known what to do if I were in your position.” Louis says, and it’s true. If Harry had been the one in the hospital bed Louis wouldn’t have known how to act, what to do, he would have freaked out and done a lot of things to cheer Harry up. Things that might have ended up doing more damage than good. But then again, maybe not , because Louis had always been the one giving comfort instead of needing it. He usually took too much responsibility and ended up feeling worse himself while making others better. It had always been like that.

 

Harry nods and gives him a sad smile, as if saying that they’ll make it through. Hesitantly Louis reaches out the hand closest to Harry and he lets out a breath of relief when Harry holds his hand. Harry’s hand is warm and Louis feels as if his entire body is heating up from just this little touch. 

 

“Do you want to tell the boys what’s going on? Niall wanted us to come over tonight, but I haven’t given him an answer, we obviously can’t go, but him and Liam could come here.” Harry says and squeezes Louis’ hand softly. 

 

“I mean, they deserve to know, but like I don’t want to _tell_ them… I don’t know, I want them to visit ‘cause I will be here for ages probably, so they’ll find out eventually either way…” Louis trails off, not sure how to phrase want he wants to say. He wants Niall and Liam by his side because they’re his friends who have been there for him for six years. But he doesn’t want them to know because he has always been the strong and stable one in their group. He doesn’t want them to see and know how badly he has fucked up, how _he_ let the fame and pressure get to his head. He has always been the one to comfort them when they’re upset about what the “fans” are saying or what management wants them to do. He has always been the big brother, the one who doesn’t break. And now he’s here.

 

“We could tell them together, if that’s more comfortable for you… I think they should know, we also need to talk with management and let them know we’re not doing any PR the coming weeks.”

 

“I don’t want to talk to management. Never, they’ll probably find a way to sell a story through this. I don’t want them to know.” Louis days quickly and he can feel himself frowning and Harry gives his hand another squeeze.

 

“Calm down, love. We don’t have to tell them anything yet. And I can handle it if it’s necessary. But about the boys,  what do you want to do?”

 

“We can tell them together? Soon? Maybe invite them here without accidentally terrifying them and then explain it to them? I don’t know, it feels bad to tell them over phone or skype.” Louis says and Harry nods and lifts his phone.

 

“How about we write ‘ **Lou and I are at the hospital, something came up, but we’re both more or less fine. You can come here and we’ll explain it for you…’** Is that alright?” Harry suggests and Louis nods and smiles lightly.

 

“Sounds good, Li will freak out whatever you write as long as it involves the word ‘hospital’, but it’ll be fine.”

 

Harry smiles in answer and sighs softly as he pressed send. “You should call your mum before the lads come…”

 

“I know… Do you think she’ll be angry? I usually tell her everything and I haven’t even called her in like three months, barely even texted her.” Louis mumbles and feels his cheeks heat up in shame. He hasn’t talked to his mum in ages, they usually call once a week and talk. But Louis has ignored her calls and made no effort in calling her. He was scared that she would see right through his lies if they talked. She had always had this weird mum-sense that makes it impossible for him to get away with any lie, no matter how small or big. He doesn’t understand how she can always know, no one else sees through his lies, but she does so he has had to learn not to lie to her. And if they would have talked she would have wanted to know how he was and what he and Harry had been doing, and he would have had to lie. Because he was doing shit and he and Harry barely talked or touched. So he didn’t contact her.

 

“Louis… You have to call her, she deserves to know. Do you want me to  stay in the room?” Harry asks and Louis sighs but shakes his head. He needs to do this alone and if he knows his mum right then the call will be quite emotional and he’d rather not have Harry watching him break down again.

 

Harry gives his hand one last squeeze before exiting the room and closing the door.

 

Slowly Louis lifts his phone and presses his mum’s contact. With each tone that sounds through the phone Louis seems to find it harder to breathe. He’s almost gasping for air when his mum answers.

 

“Hi mum.” the words come out as breathless as Louis feels and it’s with worry in her voice that Louis’ mum asks him what’s going on. “I’m eh at the hospital, haven’t been doing too well lately.” Louis whispers.

 

“You’re poorly? What does the doctor say is wrong? Is Harry with you?”

 

“Harry is outside… The doctor says I have an...eh… an eating disorder.” Louis rushes out his diagnosis and tries to calm his quickly beating heart.

 

“...an eating disorder? Oh baby, is that why you’ve been looking so skinny in the recent pictures? How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell me? Did something happen? Are you alright?” it’s a lot of questions and Louis has to swallow around the lump that has formed in his throat to be able to respond to any of them.

 

“I… nothing really  _ happened  _ , it’s been a long time coming I guess. It eh started like when Zayn left, I guess? Everything just became a bit too much and I didn’t really handle it very well. They’re gonna give me a meal plan and like therapy, I think, probably some meds…” his voice shakes when he speaks and he can almost see in front of him how his mum is nodding along to his answers.

 

“How long will you stay at the hospital?” she asks and Louis sighs and shrugs to himself while he whispers a small  _ I don’t know  _ . “How bad is it? Have they found any other flaws than underweight in your health?” she asks then and Louis swallows thickly.

 

“I...I have osteoporosis and they’re gonna have to like monitor my kidneys because apparently they aren’t working very well and I eh put a lot of stress on my heart? I’m not really sure what that means, but it will get better if I gain weight.” Louis mumbles and stares at the white ceiling.

 

“You… How much weight did you lose, Louis?” she asks and Louis can hear the slight fear and stress in her voice and he feels his stomach contract by the thought of upsetting his mum. He has fucked up so badly and now his mum is scared and stressed for him. He hates upsetting people and he can feel a few tears roll down his cheeks and down on the pillow.

 

“I don’t know really, a lot.” Louis whispers and think about his journal that is lying on his drawer beside his bed at home. The journal that has so many numbers written in it. He honestly doesn’t know what weight he started at anymore, all the numbers seem to have blend together. But he knows that he never wants to get back to the first few entries of his journal.

 

“How much do you weight? Do you know that?” she stresses and Louis swallows and sniffles and wills the silent tears to stop coming.

 

“Why do you want to know? It will just upset you, it’s too low I can tell you that…”

 

“-Is it a hundred pounds? A hundred and ten? I  _ need  _ to know, Louis.” she interrupts and Louis thinks about how he dropped below a ninety pounds a week ago, he barely remembers being at a hundred and ten.

 

“It’s lower, okay. I’m just over eighty pounds right now, but we’re working-” this time Louis is interrupted by the beep in his phone signaling that the call has ended. 

 

She hung up on him.


	7. Stuck in My Brain

By the time the lads come to the hospital, Louis’ tears have dried and he has sent a long text to his mother that explains a bit more about the situation. She still hasn’t responded. Harry came back into the room ten minutes after the call ended and did his best to comfort Louis. And then a nurse came with his lunch which had Louis in tears again, this time more frustrated than sad. He managed to eat a third of the small portion.

 

Liam looks at Louis with his big brown eyes filled with worry when he and Niall sits down on one side of the hospital bed, and Harry sits on the other side holding Louis’ hand tightly.

 

“So uh, there’s really no simple version of this - but I’m sick and I’ll be here for a while. “ is how Louis begins his explanation of the situation he is in. The lads are patient with him while he explains, and Harry fills in some of the gaps in Louis’ story. It takes them less than fifteen minutes to have covered the story from the first skipped meal to this day.

 

“But you’ll be okay now then? I mean, they’ll like watch you eat and you have the tube thing in your arm, so you’ll like gain weight and be fine again, right?” Liam asks and Louis bites his lip and shrugs.

 

“I mean, gaining weight is the small issue here. It’s like more important that I will  _ want  _ to eat and learn how to be like happy with myself, I guess. ‘Cause like even if the hospital manages to patch me up physically, I would end up right back here in a couple of months again.”

 

“I don’t think I really understand, you just have to eat? And how can your underweight not be the most pressing issue? Couldn’t you like literally die if you didn’t gain weight?” Liam continues and Louis sends a pleading glance at Harry who clears his throat.

 

“Of course it is important that Louis gains weight. But like, what he’s trying to say is that, they need to get to the like root of the problem. His weight is just like branches you know, it’s the roots you need to get rid of if you want to take down the tree. You feel me?” Harry asks and Louis stares at him in wonder.  The tree metaphor was just about the things that Louis tried to express and by the look on Liam’s face he seems to have understood as well. Liam nods and takes a deep breath.

 

“It’s a complicated matter, mental illnesses have always scared me a bit, so I have never really done any research on it. So I’m sorry if I get anything wrong or if I ask stupid questions. It’s just really unexplored territory for me, and I’m scared. I mean these things are scary. You seemed totally fine when I last met you, maybe a bit too eager for exercise, but like you seemed like you were alright. And now here you are, in a hospital! I mean, how could I just have missed that you were sick?” Liam explains and lets out another deep breath.

 

“I eh tried to hide it? I didn’t want you to know and that’s probably why you didn’t notice. And like it’s not like I lost fifty pounds during a night, it happens gradually and it’s difficult to notice things when you’re all caught up in it.” Louis says and Liam nods slowly and shrugs, whispering an ‘I guess’.

 

A silence falls over them after that and Louis curses himself for putting them in this situation. He hates the frown that he has made appear in Liam’s otherwise smooth face, hates the way his brown eyes are filled with worry and uncomprehending. Hates how Niall has tear tracks on his cheeks and how his thoughts seem to make him unable to speak. Hates how Harry is worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and how he keeps checking his phone. And Louis hates not knowing where he stands with his mother, if she’s angry, sad, disappointed, surprised or all of it. He doesn’t like being the center of attention when no one knows how to deal with it. He hates himself for making it this way. 

 

The door to his hospital room is opened after a quick knock that no one would have been able to respond to before it opened. A man in a soft blue jumper and friendly smile steps into the room. He holds a folder and a cup of tea and he clears his throat in a discrete manner.

 

“Hello everyone. I’m Mark Henson, specialist in eating disorders, would it be alright if I had a word with Mr Tomlinson?” the man says and his voice is calm and low. He speaks in a way that Louis finds typical for shrinks and it unnerves him slightly. This man is a proffesionalist and he will want to know everything that is going on inside of Lousi’ head and he will want to poke and turn it until he finds reason for it. He wants to figure out the parts of Louis that no one, not even Louis himself, has dared to explore.

 

The lads nod and Liam squeezes Louis’ shoulder carefully as a ‘Good Bye’ and Louis can hear Niall whisper those words before they leave. Harry leaves last of them, gives Louis a quick peck on the lips which has Louis’ eyes staying wide open in surprise. But then again, Mark has professional secrecy which will make sure he won’t be able to tell the press about Louis and Harry. But the quick kiss leaves his cheeks tinted red and he can’t help the smile that takes over his face.

 

Once everyone is gone, Mark takes the seat next to Louis’ bed and sips carefully on his tea.

 

“So Louis, is it okay if I call you that?” Mark begins and Louis nods, “Good...tell me a bit about yourself. Give me a brief insight in your life history; Work, hobbies, friends, family, relationship, really whatever you’re willing to share.”

 

“Oh, uh..” this wasn’t what Louis had expected, he had thought Mark would go right in for the tough questions, or about his eating habits. “I uh, I’m from Doncaster and I grew up in a big family. I have six siblings, last two were born like two years ago, I’m the oldest. I was quite rowdy in school and I played a lot of football, still do, love football… I was in a school musical and then I tried out for X Factor and it went quite well. So uh now I’m in a band with three other guys, the ones that just left the room… We were five until last year when Zayn quit… I uh, I’ve been in a relationship with Harry, who’s in the band, since like six years back, he’s really great.” is how Louis sums up his life story and he lifts the gaze he has kept focused on his hands to meet Mark’s. Mark keeps eye contact while he scribbles down notes in his folder and Louis is impressed for a moment.

 

“Thank you, Louis. Harry was the last one to leave the room, right?” he asks and Louis nods, “He seems like a nice lad. Do you live together?”

 

“Yea, we’ve been since the start. He was sixteen when we first started dating and we moved in together after x Factor was over.”

 

“Very well, what’s your favourite thing about Harry?” the question throws Louis off guard for a bit and he clears his throat.

 

“Love his voice, he has a very calm voice and it’s very nice when he sings. I also love his curls, although he has cut most of them off now can’t wait until they grow out, it’s so pretty. And I love his smell, he smells like home, you know, it’s very grounding to have him around. Especially in weird places like here, everything smells so clean and weird in hospitals, but Harry smells like he usually does and it’s nice.” Louis stops himself from keeping on rambling, his list of what he loves about Harry is never ending and he doesn’t really know if this is what he was supposed to share with his new therapist.

 

Mark has a smile on his face when Louis dares to look up at him and he nods.

 

“You love him a lot, that’s very nice to hear. How has he been handling the situation,? From when it began to now?” Mark asks and Louis sighs, because there it is the talk about the real issue.

 

“When I first started skipping meals and such I don’t think he really noticed, and then when I began losing weight more rapidly he became worried and would ask me if I was alright and I would tell him I was. After a while he stopped asking so often and he stopped trying to make me have dinner with him, because he knew it was no use, and I would find excuses to why I couldn’t when he did ask. He tried to get me to open up about it, but I didn’t want to...and then I told him a couple of weeks ago, and he was lovely and understanding. He tried to help and made simple foods and stuff I should have been able to eat, but I threw it up and kept lying to him. And then he took me here and I tried to talk my way out of being diagnosed. And I think that hurt him, that I refused help when I needed it, when he tried to give it to me. And when he found out I threw up the food he had made he was hurt about that, because I had made him believe that he had helped me and that I wanted to get better… But he’s still here, he hasn’t left and he is trying to understand why I act like I do and how I ended up here, but he can’t understand because I don’t even understand why things are the way they are.” Louis takes a deep breath once he finishes speaking and Mark is nodding while he writes down notes in his folder, Louis only has to wait a few seconds before he is finished.

 

“Thank you, Louis, I think that if you continue being this open to me we will be able to get you back on the right track. I’m very happy that you are willing to share so much with me. Harry’s reaction to your disorder is pretty common and I’m very glad that you have him by your side, I can tell that you value his wants and his support highly.” Mark says and smiles, “And about the not being able to understand the way you act and how you ended up here; you may never fully understand it, Harry even less so, but I will try and help you to come close enough to understanding so you’ll be able to avoid it if you ever find yourself heading down this road again.”

 

They don’t really continue the session after this, only make a few more comments about the complexity of an eating disorder and Louis gushes a bit more about how lovely Harry is. They shake hands before Mark leaves and Louis lets out a long breath.

  
Therapy wasn’t close to as bad as Louis had feared it would be.


	8. The Funky Race

Life at hospital is...It’s boring is what it is. Time passes slowly when all you get to do is lay in a bed and stare at the ceiling, or at the TV (which has like five channels and none of them are any fun, last night he watched some random reality show and got to know way more about a couple’s sex life than he wanted to know). He doesn’t get to use his phone without someone being in the room with him, since the doctors say it can he harmful for his recovery. He doesn’t really agree with this, but he doesn’t have much to say about it since Harry pleaded to him that he would do his best to make things go smoothly.

 

So he’s doing his best. He doesn’t look in the mirror when he uses the bathroom and he doesn’t log in to twitter when he’s on his phone (apparently news about him being in the hospital leaked and the fans are speculating around why he’s there, something that lead to some panic induced tears on Louis’ side, but they haven’t been able to figure out the truth yet (which Louis is forever grateful for)), and he eats the food the nurses brings (most of it at least, he has yet to touch the bread or yoghurt) and he talks to Mark whenever they have a session. He’s actually really trying to get better and from the way the doctor nods at him and from all the smiles that get sent his way, he can only guess that he is making improvements. Which is terrifying.

 

Making improvements means gaining weight and gaining weight means throwing away all the work and control he put into losing it. But he tries to think of his recovery as a way of regaining control.  He had a long talk about control with Mark in their last session and some of the words Mark said really stuck in his head; “Everyone strives for control, but they tend to lose it in the thought of having it.”. It’s a sentence that kind of made Louis realise that maybe he wasn’t in control, that he maybe lost it somewhere along the road and that it’s his disorder that is in control and not him. 

 

Being at the hospital also gives him a lot of time to think and write. He has been writing a lot lately ever since Harry gave him a brand new journal (after he found out what Louis had written in his last one, those numbers will always hunt him). So Louis writes. He writes sentences with no connection and he writes several pages of lyrics. He doesn’t stop to reflect about what he is writing and whether he likes it or not, he just lets the thoughts stream out of his head and onto the paper. Sometimes he will let Harry read it, and sometimes Mark will read it and then they’ll discuss it. He’s baring himself in a way he hasn’t dared to do before and it is liberating in some way. - To put all of your cards on the table and see how people react and what they’ll do with them. It’s also scary because he can no longer hide and lie.

 

Harry has, of course, continued to be amazing and supportive. He has visited Louis every day and brought him news about the boys or to update him on how his own songwriting is going. He’s the only normal and constant thing for Louis at the moment and he is grateful beyond words for this. He loves Harry, like really really loves him. Sometimes he’ll find himself looking at him and just smiling and shaking his head thinking about how bloody lucky he is to have found someone like him. And he feels sad, thinking about how he has ruined the past six months for them. How much distance he put between them and how much he has hurt himself and Harry. And he feels guilty when he sees Harry enter the hospital room with a prepared smile and sad eyes with dark circles underneath. He knows Harry isn’t sleeping well, he knows he stays up late researching eating disorders and worrying about Louis. And Louis feels like shit for it. For making Harry worry. For making him sad.

 

At the moment, Harry is sitting beside him and writing something in his own journal and he’s humming lowly under his breath so Louis guesses he’s writing a song. The tune is soft and calm and Louis can’t help but smile and admire the way his boyfriend is working. He has a slight frown on his face as if he’s concentrating really hard and he writes words in the air before actually writing them down on the paper, as if trying if they really fit. Sometimes his frown will change into a smile when he feels happy with his choice of words.

 

“I can feel you staring, you know.” Harry mumbles, without looking up from the journal or pausing his writing.

 

“Yeah? Well, you’re very fascinating.” Louis says and smiles, Harry pauses his writing and looks up to meet Louis’ gaze and smiles.

 

“ _ You’re  _ fascinating, I could spend hours looking at you.” Harry says.

 

“‘ _ Louis’ a great person to just like sit and kind of like just admire what he’s like’. _ “ Louis imitates and lowers his voice to sound more like Harry, it makes Harry laugh slightly and shake his head.

 

“Oh, shut up. I can’t believe they let that be a part of the movie, it’s probably one of the cheesiest things I’ve ever said.” there’s a slight blush colouring Harry’s cheeks and it makes Louis smile brightly.

 

“It’s probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

 

“I should compliment you more then, I have a lot of sweet and cheesy thoughts about you.” Harry teases and Louis can’t help but giggle.

 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr Styles.”

 

“No? You sure about that? Hmmm..” Harry pauses and his eyes light up before he speaks again. “What if I told you that your eyes are the prettiest I’ve ever seen, you made blue become my favourite colour. And I love how your eyes change shade depending on your mood, my favourite is when they’re all bright and you’re happy and your eyes crinkle; you pretty much become the sun whenever you smile. And I love your smile and your lips, I love kissing them because they are so soft and they fit perfectly with mine. I love when I can feel your smile against my lips, because you can’t contain your happiness. It makes me all giddy and warm to know that I can have that effect on you. I love your hands and how they’re smaller than mine and all the things you create with them, I love it when you play the piano, how you can make it seem so easy with the way your hands dance over the keys, yet I can never quite get the hang of it. I love how patient you are with me, when you’re trying to teach me to play. And I love your voice, how soothing it can be, how you make it silly whenever you speak with children or animals, how soft it goes when you tell me you love me, I love when you sing, how unique it sounds and how well it compliments my own. I love your body, how good it feels to hug you and cuddle, I love how it responds to my touches. And I love  _ you  _ as a person; you’re kind and sweet, you give without expecting anything in return, you’re caring and humble and you’re so god damn blind to all of this.” he takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “You’re such a great person, Louis, in every single way, and I love you with everything I have, and I have loved you for over six years now and I will love you for so many more to come. My love for you is endless, and it hurts for me to see and think that you don’t share that love to yourself. You should be kinder to yourself, show yourself the same love you show everyone else. You deserve it.”

 

Finding words to respond with is impossible, and it is with tears streaming down his cheeks that he reaches over to Harry and kisses him. Kisses him in an attempt to show him how much those words meant, kisses him to try and tell him that he will try to love himself and kisses him to show him how in love he is with him.

 

“Thank you.” Louis finally whispers when they pull apart, and it is with a sad smile that Harry carefully dries away the tears on both of their cheeks.

 

“You don’t have to thank me for loving you.” is Harry’s response and Louis sighs softly and leans back into the bed. People usually complain about how uncomfortable hospital beds are, and maybe he is just lucky, but Louis really don’t have anything to complain about when it comes to the beds comfiness. The duvet is fluffy and warm, the mattress is soft, but not too soft, and the pillows are firm but kinda fluffy. He also has a blanket since he one night mentioned to Harry that the nights were cold without him. Everything except the blanket is white, which is a bit dull, but Louis knows it’s for hygiene reasons so he can’t really complain.

 

“I’ll always be thankful that you love me, I’m never taking you for granted.”

 

“Well, you should, I’ll be here through everything as long as you’ll have me. Through the good, the bad, the healthy, the sick and all that. You shouldn’t feel thankful that your partner is in love with you, that is something you should be able to take for granted and not have to second guess. I’m yours.”

 

Louis nods and sighs after a moment of silence, and takes Harry’s hand in his own.

 

“I’ll try. I’m yours too, I love you.” Louis whispers and tries not to feel bad for how lame his words seem compared to the ones Harry said to him. The thing is, he could say something equally nice and true to Harry, but he has always struggled to find words for meaningful things. Quick comebacks and stuff that he doesn’t really care about are easy to say. But to explain his love, or to talk about something that is difficult to talk about; that’s something he has never quite mastered. He thinks a lot instead, and lives inside his head with thoughts he wishes he knew how to share. Writing helps a bit, he thinks, but it’s not quite the same as to have an actual dialogue. Writing gives him time to change his words and manipulate the meaning of them, and it also gives the reader time to think and twist his words before answering, if they chose to answer. When you’re speaking to someone you have to do it right there and then, there’s no escape when you’re in the middle of a conversation, and once you’ve said something, you’ve said it. Maybe that’s why he likes writing more; it’s not as absolute. 

 

Harry strokes Louis’ hair away from his forehead and kisses him there. Louis lets himself relax and closes his eyes for a moment. It strikes him then, an overwhelming feeling of homesickness. He wants to lay in his own head, with Harry kissing him. He wants to check his phone whenever he feels like it and he wants to walk around and not have people hovering over him at all times. He just wants things to go back to normal.

 

“I really want to go home.” he whispers and sighs, keeping his eyes closed.

 

“I know, I want you to come home too… But first you have to regain your strength and health, which you’re doing really well on achieving. Just a week more maybe and then we’ll see if you wanna go home or if you want to go to a rehab...have you thought about it?”

 

“I don’t want to go to rehab. I just want to go home and for everything to be normal again.”

 

“Rehab might be good for you, it would make the ‘normal’ part easier when you get back. If you go home asap we will have to adjust and have a lot of hospital and therapy visits, and the risk of you relapsing is higher.” Harry says and Louis sighs and shakes his head.

 

“You make it sound as if you want me to leave.” Louis mumbles and Harry shakes his head.

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ you to go. I want you to be healthy and happy, and I’m scared I won’t be able to help you with that! You need professional help, Louis. You need time to sort out your thoughts and beat this disorder, and I can’t help you with that. I can’t help you the way you need to be helped, and it’s killing me Louis. To be this goddamned helpless and just watch you struggle without being able to do a single thing about it. I want us to go back to normal, but I don’t know how we can do that.” Harry’s cheeks are flushed and he’s panting slightly when he closes his mouth and Louis, who had opened his eyes during Harry’s speech, can see frustrated tears in the corners of Harry’s eyes. Louis’ own breath is also irregular and he can feel tears burn behind his eyes.

 

“You don’t have to do anything, I’m sorry if I’ve somehow managed to make you believe that I think you could magically cure me. I know you can’t, I don’t expect you to. But I can’t go to rehab, I don’t want my disorder to be out to the public, and I don’t want to be away from you and the lads or my family.  I don’t think I would be able to recover without you guys beside me. And I want to be at home, because it’s only been a week and I’m already missing it so badly. I will still have check ups at the hospital and therapy sessions with Mark. My recovery isn’t your responsibility.” Louis says and looks into Harry’s eyes. After a moment of silence Harry nods.

 

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. If you feel like being home is what’s best for you, then of course you should be at home. I’ll be with you every step, and I’ll try not to be frustrated with myself when you’re struggling.” Harry whispers.

  
“That’s all I want.”


	9. It Will Slip on the Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early update? I am just as confused as you are...

Louis cracks a few days later. He was just going to the bathroom, for the usual reasons… But when he passed the mirror he caught a glimpse of himself from the corner of his eye. Only this time, the image of him seemed all wrong. He could see his sunken cheeks and eyes, crazily sharp cheekbones, his skin grayish and hair all limp and dry, bony shoulders hiding under the hospital gown and collarbones sticking out above. He was confused by the image and had to turn and look into the mirror to see if it really was true.

 

But when he turned to look in the mirror he was met by his own dull eyes, and yes his hair was limp and dry, lips chapped. But, he could not see the sunken cheeks or sharp cheekbones, or the collarbones. Instead he saw pudgy cheeks, undefined jawline and a body filling out the hospital gown so it stretched tightly around his abdomen and chest. And when he lifts his hand to fix his hair, he doesn’t see skeletal fingers and a frail wrist, but chubby fingers and arms too thick to be proportionate. 

 

He blinks away the tears that formed in his eyes and takes a shaky breath before locking the door to the bathroom. No one is in his room at the moment, because Harry had some song writing session with someone, and the others were busy as well, and the nurses aren’t supposed to be there until lunch, which Louis thinks is in about an hour. This means that no one will notice him locking the door, which has been strictly forbidden since he entered the hospital (he isn’t sure why they don’t just remove the lock from the door if it is so important). But so he locks the door and then he strips to his underwear.

 

He takes a long time to examine himself in the mirror. His breathing becomes ragged as he stares at his arms and chest, and he can’t help but let a few tears fall when he sees how bloated his stomach looks and how large his thighs have become. He looks just as bad as he looked when he began skipping meals. And he feels just as nauseous when he looks as his reflection. He lets his hands roam over his body and pull and scratch at the fat that is covering his bones. His nails leave red marks all over his thin skin, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop until he has drawn blood on both his stomach and thighs.

 

After that he turns away from the mirror and kneels in front of the toilet. He opens the lid and stares down at the clear water for a long time, watching as his tears make it to the water. He then takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as he forcefully sticks his fingers to the back of his mouth. The reaction is immediate and his breakfast spills out from his mouth and into the toilet. He continues this and gags until nothing more comes out. But he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop.

 

He gets up and fills a glass with water by the sink before quickly gulping it down, wincing at how sore his throat has become. He kneels again and forces his fingers into his mouth again, and purges up the water. The water he throws up is slightly pink, probably from blood, but Louis isn’t finished. He repeats the action, alternating between drinking and throwing up, until all that comes out is blood.

 

He is vaguely aware that he is sobbing loudly and  coughing. His throat is aching and feels too swollen for him to be able to breathe normally. The fingers he has forced into his mouth are pulsating with pain from having been scraped against his teeth, and if he were to look down he could see that they were bleeding.

 

There is an urgent knocking on the bathroom door, which Louis can make out over his own sobs, and he can hear a nurse telling him to unlock the door.   But he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t even think he has the energy to stand up and unlock it. He feels as if he is drained, that all that is left is only a shell of who he really is. His body is just a vessel that he is no longer comfortable in, and his personality and all there was to like about him went into the toilet along his his puke. He feels like shit and he feels guilty. So God damn guilty; for caving and acting like he just did. But he also feels guilty for having eaten as much as he has for the past week. 

 

The nurse is no longer knocking, but he can hear her speaking somewhere outside of the bathroom, but he no longer feels as if her words are directed to him. Maybe she has called for backup, or is trying to figure out how to unlock the door from the outside.

 

Louis lets his head lay heavy between his shoulders, facing the cold bathroom tiles, and his hands, which are covered in blood and puke. He can’t really be bothered to care about the state they are in. His tears have stopped and he is silent, except for a sniff every now and then.

 

A soft knock sounds through the door and then he can hear Harry’s voice asking him to open up. Louis can’t help but sob then, as he feels the guilt of relapsing become overwhelming. He struggles to lift his head and crawl over to where he left his gown. He struggles even more trying to get it on, and then to stand up. His vision becomes black once he is upright and he feels a chill spread through his body, and a pressure in his ears. He is vaguely aware that he is falling before he completely passes out.

  
  


When he wakes up he is in the hospital bed and his arm is in a cast and is abused fingers are wrapped into a bandage. His throat is swollen and it hurts when he tries to swallow. The light in the room is overwhelming when he opens his eyes, and it takes a lot of blinking before they adjust. He tries to clear his throat, and accidently gains the attention of his therapist, who happened to be in the room.

 

“Hello, Louis. How are you feeling?” Mr Henson asks from where he is sitting beside the bed. He has the usual folder with him and seemed to have been making notes before Louis woke up.

 

“Don’t know.” Louis raps out, voice coming out thin and barely audible. Mark nods and hands him a glass of water with a straw. Struggling, Louis takes a sip of it and winces as the cold water slides down his abused throat. He takes a few sips before shaking his head and letting Mark remove the glass.

 

“Do you remember what happened?” Mark asks after that and Louis shrugs and sighs.

 

“I passed out?” he whispers, voice still raspy, but slightly stronger.

 

“That you did. Do you remember what happened before that? You had locked yourself in the bathroom, can you tell me why?”

 

“I… I saw myself from the corner of my eye in the mirror, but I looked uh different, so I turned to look again. And then I kinda got stuck and locked the door. I then made myself throw up repeatedly.” the words are mumbled and Louis can feel shame and guilt creep up inside him. He doesn’t want to talk about this, so he tries to change the direction of the conversation. “Did I break my arm?”

 

“Your wrists is broken, yes. It is because of your osteoporosis, it makes it much easier for your bones to break.” Mark says and smiles a bit, before speaking again. “So you had a relapse...what did you see in the mirror when you first caught a glance of yourself? What was it that made you stop and take another look?”

 

Louis smacks his lips together and looks away, he fixs his eyes onto the cast on his wrist and tries to feel if it hurts or not. He still feels a bit out of it so it’s hard to focus onto anything, but he thinks that his wrist smarts a bit at least. He remembers when he broke his wrist when he was sixteen. He had been playing football, and been the goalie. But when he tried to catch the ball, it came with too much force and forced his wrist to bend and break. It had hurt a lot and he had worn a cast for four weeks. He had broken the same wrist a few years earlier when he was twelve and had fell down from a tree. He remembers that he cried for ages and that he and his mum sat in the hospitals waiting room for ages before he got help.

 

He has broken his other wrist this time, the right one instead of the left. He remembers that he always thought he was lucky when he broke the left one, since he is right handed. He wasn’t as lucky this time. He wonders what kind of impact this will have on his everyday life, writing will be difficult, he guesses, and eating maybe.

 

“Louis? Would you please answer my question. I know that you probably don’t want to talk right now, and that your throat must hurt quite a lot. But I am here to help you, Louis, and I won’t be able to do that if you do not speak with me.” Mark interrupts his thoughts, and Louis lets his eyes glance over at his therapist before looking back at his arm. 

 

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. Is Harry here?” Louis knows he is being difficult. But he is tired, and as Mark said, his throat does hurt a lot, and he just  really isn’t feeling up to talk about all of this. He just wants to ignore what happened and move forward from it. He had a weak moment, so what. It doesn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

 

“Harry is down in the cafeteria, he will come and see you once you and I are done talking. Which might take a while if you’re going to continue ignore my questions… Please, Louis, answer my question.” Mark pleads and Louis sighs loudly and turns to look at Mark.

 

“I thought I saw the version of me that everyone keeps describing to me. I saw sunken cheeks, sharp cheekbones, sunken eyes, a sharp jawline, thin shoulders and collarbones that stuck out. So I turned to look again, but it was gone. And I looked just the same as before I began dieting.” Louis snaps, he knows that the tone he uses is rude and too snappy and angry to really be okay. But Mark doesn’t seem to mind, only nods and writes down something in the folder.

 

“And how did you look before your disorder?” Mark asks, and Louis tries not to flinch at how Mark changed the word ‘dieting’ to ‘disorder’. It freaks him out slightly that he has been sick for so long, that what he did never was normal. That his diet was a disorder.

 

“Fat.” Louis answers simply and he can tell by the look on Mark’s face that he wants him to elaborate, so he sighs and continues. “My cheeks were pudgy, an undefined jawline, stomach sticking out, thighs that touch each other and curvy hips. Fat covering every bone.”

 

“Are you aware that the way you just describe yourself is impossible when looking at your weight?” Mr Henson asks, still jutting down things in the notebook.

 

“I don’t know, I could have, and probably do have, gained a lot of weight since arriving here.”

 

“So you do believe that in the two weeks you have been here that you have gone from 81 pounds to 121 pounds? That is a gain of 40 pounds in less than two weeks. Does that seem logical to you?” Mark asks and Louis clenches his jaw and lets out an angry breath. He bloody knows it isn’t logical, but logic isn’t always his strongest suit apparently.

 

“No, of course it doesn’t. I’m not stupid.” Louis snaps.

 

“I never said you were, Louis. I am just stating facts for you to understand that what you see when you look into the mirror isn’t what you look like in reality. Body dysmorphia is common among E.D patients. It is important for you to remember that what you see doesn’t reflect reality. You did probably catch a glance at the your real body when you walked past the mirror, but when you tried to focus your body dysmorphia took over and twisted the reflection for you. I am just trying to bring light to your situation, and make you understand what you’re dealing with.” Mark explains calmly and Louis looks away. 

 

“Doesn’t a lot of transexuals deal with body dysmorphia?” he asks quietly, it is only in the transgender terms that he has heard the condition being used before. 

 

“Well, no, that’s a common misinterpretation. Transpeople usually suffer from gender dysmorphia. Gender dysphoria is a condition where a person experiences discomfort or distress because there is a mismatch between their biological sex and gender identity. Body dysmorphia, is a sort of anxiety disorder that causes people to spend a lot of time worrying about their appearance and to have a distorted view of how they look.” Mark expains and Louis nods.

 

“Oh… okay. So uh how do you get rid of it?”

 

“Just like how we get rid of your eating disorder, we talk and try to reason with your thoughts and feelings, try to get you to automatically think of the logical reason for your feeling, and not your disordered thinking. It is a long process, Louis, and sometimes you will relapse, but what is important is that we talk and are honest, only by that we can get you better. Okay?”

 

“Okay, I will try.” 

 

“I know, and you’ve done really well so far, you’ve made such a progress in a short amount of time.” the therapist praises. “Is there anything else you would like us to talk about in this session?”

 

“I uh, how did they open the door?” Louis asks, as he remembers the frantic knocking that was going on before he fainted.

 

“Well, your Harry was more than ready to knock it down by himself, but the nurse had the janitor open it. Do you want me to get Harry for you? I’m sure he’d be delighted to see you awake.” Mark says and smiles. Louis can’t help but feel bad, he probably gave Harry a scare when he laid motionless on the bathroom floor.

 

“I-is Harry okay? I mean, is he holding up alright?” Louis asks and bites his lip. Mark smiles a bit sadly and nods.

 

“He was doing okay when I spoke with him. He was a bit panicked when they found you and until they clarified what your injuries were. He probably won’t be entirely settled until he gets to see you with his own eyes. He was a bit upset when the doctors and I decided that it would be best if we had a chat alone before anyone else spoke with you.” Mark explains and Louis nods.

 

“Can you get him for me?” he asks then and Mark nods before he stands. He smiles at him before he leaves the room.

 

Louis takes a deep breath to collect himself and prepare to face Harry.


	10. I Ask Nothing of You

Reuniting with Harry hurts a lot more than Louis had anticipated. It only takes Harry stepping into the room before his green eyes well up with tears and he lets out a heart wrenching sob. Louis tries to give him a reassuring smile, but his lips are wobbling and his eyes are quickly filling up with tears. He  _ hates  _ to see his boyfriend in such a distressed mode, and to know that he is the cause of his own boyfriend’s tears.

 

They do not speak for a long time, Harry opting to sit on the chair beside Louis and hold his hand.  The sobs have subsided but both of them still let out small sniffles every once a while. Louis can feel Harry’s eyes on him, even if he himself has chosen to stare at the cast of his arm. He doesn’t understand why he finds it so hard to grant Harry the eye contact he so clearly is seeking. He guesses that he is feeling ashamed, because he knows he acted irresponsibly and that it could have been prevented if he just thought logically. If he had been able to ignore the burning feeling of shame and hatred and disgust he felt when he looked himself in the mirror. If he had been able to think rationally and see that he has not gained forty pounds in two weeks time. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks after he has cleared his throat a couple of times, his voice still comes out groggy and laced with tears. Louis swallows, keeps his gaze on his arm and sighs.

 

“Weird. It’s all still a bit foggy in my head.” he admits quietly, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Harry nod.

 

“Yeah, you eh hit your head quite hard when you uh passed out. There uh was a lot of eh blood.” Harry mumbles and takes a deep breath, as if to calm himself.

 

“Oh, really? Mark didn’t mention that…” Louis says, trying to act nonchalant, but he is painfully aware of how horrifying it must have been for Harry to see him there; lying motionless of the bathroom floor, covered in puke and blood. Louis shudders at the thought of it.

 

“He didn’t?” Louis can sense a hint of irritation in Harry’s voice now, probably because of the reception he got from Louis, but instead of fixing his mistake Louis hums and nods lightly. “Well then, did he mention that you broke your wrist? That the jack in your forehead required stitches? That the bruises on your knuckles will take ages to heal and fade, that maybe there will be scars from it? That your throat was so swollen when we found you that you could barely breathe? Did he tell you that I was there when they opened the door and had to see you lying on the cold hard tiles with blood rushing out from your head, your arm bent in an awkward angle and that you were so pale and worn out that you didn’t even look like yourself? Not to even mention the smell, a mixture of the everlasting disinfectant that follows you everywhere in a hospital, and the awful sour smell of your vomit, and on top of that the overpowering metallic smell of blood? I will never be able to get that scene out of my head, Louis! I can barely even look at you without reliving that moment over and over. So don’t you dare try and act like all is fine and that this didn’t happen. Because it fucking did, and we need to talk about it!” Harry finishes his rant and Louis has long since closed his eyes and let the tears pour down his cheeks. He feels awful. Absolutely fucking awful.

 

He knows that all Harry has said is right, and he had suspected that Harry had felt something akin to it. And Louis is so so so ashamed of himself and he feels so guilty that he can’t even look at Harry. He knows that he fucked up, knows that this relapse isn’t a small thing, but something that he has to face and actually deal with. But, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to be sick anymore. He doesn’t want to be at the hospital and he doesn’t want to continue to disappoint Harry. He kind of really just want to go to sleep, and stay asleep for a really long while.

 

“Hey, Lou. I’m sorry, that was a bit harsh.” Harry whispers when it becomes clear that Louis won’t respond, but Louis can barely hear him over the thoughts that are pushing around in his head and the sobs that he can’t help but let escape from his mouth. “Babe, you need to calm down. Deep breaths…”

 

“Get out.” he manages to wheeze out after a couple of deep breaths. The words escape his mouth before he has any real chance to think them over, but once they are out he finds himself quite okay with them. He can’t have Harry in the room right now.

 

“What? Louis please…”

 

“Leave, Harry. Just go.” he ends up coughing and wheezing once he gets the words out and Harry is probably looking at him with worried tearful eyes, but Louis still can’t find it in him to face him. 

 

He hears Harry sigh before he stands up and walks towards the door.

 

“I’ll be down in the cafeteria, please let someone know if you need me.” is what Harry says before he leaves the room. The door closes and Louis lets out a loud sob, before turning so he can muffle the sounds with the pillow.

 

He feels so fucked.

He doesn’t really understand what it is that he wants. Because on one hand, he really couldn’t stand having Harry in the room anymore. He can’t stand having him there, looking at him with worried, sad eyes and knowing that he made Harry have to go through something so traumatizing. And he can’t have Harry pointing out to him just how badly he did fuck up. He can’t stand having Harry be upset with him, not when he himself already hates himself.

 

But on the other hand, he  _ needs  _ Harry. He can’t function without him. He finds it impossible to calm down when his boyfriend isn’t sitting beside him and holding his hand. Louis feels empty when Harry isn’t in the room, and he hates fighting with him and wishes they could just sort it out already.

 

He doesn’t know who to turn to with this issue, he knows, logically, that he should speak with either Harry or his therapist.... But that would require him to open up and he doesn’t know how to really do that about this. Because he isn’t sure what he wants or how he wants it all to be.

 

Louis sighs and shakes his head in an attempt to get the thoughts out of his head, but all he succeeds with is giving himself a headache. He reaches towards the notebook that he keeps on the beside table and awkwardly grips the pen with his left hand, since his right one is useeless now. Writing usually helps him to sort his thoughts out, so with some difficulties he manages to open a blank page.

 

“I am not sure what I want. I had a fight with Harry and now the thoughts won’t stop. I really really do hate arguing with him and I feel so guilty. I feel guilty for forcing him to enter my messed up world where he has to see how badly I have, and continue to, fuck up. He had to see me weak, bloody and passed out, and I am afraid that he will never be able to move passed it. I probably wouldn’t have, if I were in his place.

I feel guilty for putting him in this situation, but I cannot stand the thought of him leaving me now. I  _ need  _ him here by my side if I ever wish to recover from my disorder. But then again, I’m not sure I want to. Recovery means giving up all that I have achieved. All the time I’ve spent on losing weight will be for nothing. And I’m scared that if I gain weight I will hate myself more than I do now. And I am not sure if I could handle that.

I do not know what I want to do. How I want to tackle the issues I am faced with. I don’t feel like I can really speak to anyone about it, and I don’t know how to make sense of my own thoughts. I just need a break. I need it all to stop for a while so that I can catch my breath and try to see reason. 

If I were to be really honest, I think that I, in some ways, wish that I had died during the bathroom incident.  If I had, I would not have to deal with all of this. And I am aware of how selfish it is for me to wish that, and I feel an immense guilt for it. But the thought is still there, and I cannot help but feel it would have been best that way. For everyone.”

 

His handwriting is more crap than usual, since he isn’t using his dominant hand. Louis takes a shuddering breath as he closes the notebook and puts it back in his place. He feels exhausted all of a sudden, and also a bit relieved. He had to get those thoughts out of his head and onto the paper. He could no longer keep them inside. With his eyes closed, he lets himself relax. 

 

Probably because of the meds and his exhaustion, Louis manages to fall into a deep slumber, much quicker than he usually does. His dreams are a mess though, a mix of images or himself. In the images he sees himself in all ranges of weight and situations. He sees himself the way he looked a few years ago, happy and laughing with the lads. He sees himself skinnier, carefully studying his body in the mirror, and pinching the invisible fat on his stomach. He sees himself frail and thin, hunched over a toilet where he is forcing himself to throw up. And he sees himself obese, stuffing his mouth full with fast food, and cookies and cake.

He wakes up with a gasp, and a strong urge to throw up. He is sweating and breathing harshly and he can feel tears running down his cheeks. This is why he is doing this, to avoid ending up the way he was in the last images. He does wish that he could manage to be the way he was in the firsts image of himself, when he was healthy and happy, and didn’t care all that much about his looks, weight or what everyone else thought of him. He wishes he could go back to that, to being carefree. But, he isn’t sure how to be okay with gaining weight and reaching that point in his life again, because he is terrified of overstepping and ending up overweight. He doesn’t know where to draw the line, what he is okay with and what he is not.

  
He needs to get a grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit short, and sorry for the wait...x


	11. It's just a way to put my back straight

He gets out of the hospital eventually. An entire month passes after the  _ incident  _ (that’s what Louis’ therapist has been referring Louis’ relapse as.) before the doctors discuss his release with him. During the meeting they bring a lot of tablets with information about different eating disorder clinics, all which Louis patiently listens to before declining. He has not yet changed his mind about rehab. He understands that rehab probably is a good and logical choice, which might work in his favour. But, on the other hand, he  _ hates  _ being away from home and now, when he has spent about two months in a hospital, he is more than ready to get home and sleep in his and Harry’s shared bed.

 

Things with Harry have been… tense. Louis’ therapist had them do a session together, all three of them, to discuss the incident. And it helped, a bit, but Louis still finds it hard to meet Harry’s eyes, and Harry still struggles to not think of what he saw. They’re working on it, but it is still too raw for them to deal with it. Mark also had Louis talk about his last entry in the journal, which seemed a bit too suicidal for Mark to ignore it, no matter how much Louis pleaded to him to just let it go. They didn’t managed to get very far on the topic or how Louis really felt about the situation (mostly because Louis refused to answer any directly linked questions.). Mark did have him fill out a form and answer a lot of questions before he diagnosed him with depression and gave him a prescription of some antidepressants which Louis has had to take along with his food.

 

He is feeling kind of alright, all things considered, he has made some progress, gained weight without freaking out too much. He has had a few break downs, but nothing too big or irrational. He has been doing fine, which is why he is going home tonight. And that has his stomach tied in knots, if they are of excitement or fear he is not sure. Harry has been shaking his leg for the past few hours and has left and reentered the room more times than Louis can count. Louis has also spent an hour on the phone with his mother, telling her about the news, which of course made her delighted, and made Louis promise to come visit her. That’s something as well, his mother and her progress with her sickness. She was diagnosed with leukemia a month before Louis got hospitalised. And it has been hard, for both of them, to know that the other was struggling but not being able to visit and try to make it better. And it has also made Louis feel stupid, at times, for being sick in the sense he is when she is suffering a much worse fate. But right now he feels good, because he pulled through and got out of the hospital, so hopefully she will too.

 

“I’ve signed all the papers, so we can leave whenever you’re ready.” Harry says once he reenters the room again. Louis’ stomach makes a weird flip and he nods. He is still hooked up to some machines so they have to call in a nurse to help him before they are ready to go. Harry is stomping his foot and tapping his hand against his thigh in a nervous manner that reminds Louis of all the times they’ve spent waiting for an interview or a show.

 

“You look nervous.” Louis comments in Harry’s directions, while the nurse works on getting the needle out of his arm. Louis winces when she finally does and smiles at her when she puts a small plaster over it and leaves.

 

“Ah..yeah, I guess. I mean I am kinda nervous to be honest. It’s a...a big step and I just want it all to be good, you know?” Harry rambles and Louis nods along to his words in agreement. Louis also wishes all of this to go well and yeah, he is kinda nervous too. The doctors have already warned him about the chances of relapse and the consequences it can bring.

 

“I know, love.” Louis says quietly and stands up and grabs Harry’s sweaty hand with his one cold one. “But, I think we will be fine.”

 

They leave the hospital room after sharing a few more words and kisses. Louis feels as if he can breathe a bit easier once they are out in the hall and his body feels good. Good is such a lame word, his body feels awake, like it is ready to take on the world, he kind of wants to skip down the hall and dance around. He has never been good with sitting down or being still for a longer period of time (all of those meetings with management have been hell), and now, when he has spent two months lying down in a bed, he feels free. He has so much energy rushing through his veins and he is not sure what to do with it. He is already dreading having to stand still in the elevator a few steps over.

 

“Louis! Harry! Wait a moment, would you?” a voice calls from behind them and a flustered Mark Henson is soon beside them. He puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and puffs out a few breaths before straightening his back. “Sorry about that.” he says, excusing his interruption. “I was told that their were journalists and men with cameras down in the lobby, so you were asked to take another exit, and to have a car ready to leave.”

 

“They know I’m here?” Louis asks confusedly and looks at Harry who sighs and swears.

 

“Information of you being hospitalized was leaked the same week you were admitted here, but uh with help of management we made it look as if you went home shortly after and that it was all fine. So they really shouldn’t know you’re here, there have been no updates or rumours about you for ages.” Harry says and runs a hand through his short curls. 

 

“But they obviously know I am here now. Can you google it, or text one of the PR-people to see what is going on?” Louis asks and bites down on his lip, trying to stay calm and not let this ruin his release. Anxiety is creeping up inside him and suddenly he feels foolish. How could he ever have thought he could leave the hospital and be fine in his and Harry’s home. Being back home means being back in reality and having to face the responsibilities his work has given him. It means fake dates with girls he has no interest in, it means pretending to be a dad of a kid he has no connection with, it means rumours and hate and people looking at everything he does and trying to find meaning with it. It means that he will once again have to face all the stress and press of being in the spotlight, having to deal with hateful comments and comments in general. People will speculate about his reasons for being at the hospital, they will accuse him of all types of things and paint him out to be a bad guy. Or maybe they will see how badly he has fucked up and realise that he has an eating disorder. That he lost a lot of weight. 

 

“Louis, you need to calm your breathing, can you do that for me. Here, listen to me breathing and then try to match it, alright?” Mark says and Louis feels a hand on his shoulder. The words snap him out of his thoughts and it is first then that he realises that he is hyperventilating and that his lungs burn with the lack of oxygen. He closes his eyes and clenches his fists as he tries to calm his breathing and stop the tears from escaping his eyes. It takes him a couple of minutes and it is with help of Mark’s encouraging words that Louis feels calm enough to open his eyes again. He lets out a humourless laugh once he does.

 

“Fuck this, I can’t go home, can I? I can’t even make it down to the car without having a breakdown. I’m not ready to face reality. Fuck.” Louis swears and sniffs, refusing to let any tears fall.

 

“Hey now, this will be a hard and a very testing time for you. No one expects you to do all of this fine and alone, you will need help to adjust to your normal life, Louis, and that is okay. The people downstairs were a surprise moment and that will throw you off, more now than normally. And then it is okay to have to restart and shed a few tears, that is not failing. What I want you to do now, Louis is to go home and you will try to adjust as good as you can, if you still feel like this next time we meet, which is in two days, we will arrange something new that will work for you. Alright Louis?” Mark asks and Louis nods, takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes.

 

“Alright.”

 

“Good, now off you go.” Mark smiles at them and Harry grabs Louis’ hand again before they walk off toward the elevator.

 

“You okay?” Harry asks once the door closes and the elevator moves down.

 

“I think so… did you find out how they knew I was here?” Louis asks and bites his lip.

 

“Ah, yeah, eh I spoke to the PR-people and they thought we had already left the hospital and that’s why they tipped off the paps. Apparently it would make a good story to say that you had been here. I think it sounds fucking stupid, but you know how they are. Eh anyway, media still knows nothing about your reason to have been here and PR are doing everything to make sure they won’t find out. They say that this whole hospital thing will die out in a few days, ‘cause Niall will release his solo song and then focus will be on him instead. So you and I have time to adjust and just be for a while.” Harry explains and Louis lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

“That sounds good, I guess. Did they say when I had to be back doing stunts and stuff?” Louis asks as they leave the elevator and walk out the back door to the parking lot.

 

“No, they haven’t set any dates. Your doctors and Mark have been speaking with them and making them realise that they can’t push you around because of your condition, so I think they will lay off. And, if you push it enough I think they could drop the fake baby thing.” Harry says and Louis looks at him with big eyes.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah, as long as you say that it puts a lot of stress on you and if you get Mark to put in a word about it, I think you could get free from it.”

 

“That would be amazing. God. I want that, you really think they would let me drop it if I said it was affecting my health?” Louis asks and Harry starts the car.

 

“Yup, I’ve sat through a lot of meetings with them this past month and they seem to be willing to do anything if it means that you won’t bad mouth them. You...eh, you could sue them. It would be a long process and it would mean we would have to come out, along with you coming clean about your E.D, but you could get a lot of money out of it and they would be in deep shit.” Harry mentions and keeps his eyes focused ahead on the road.

 

“I… that’s a lot. I don’t know if I would want that. I don’t want us to come out like that, it wouldn't really be on our terms then, would it? And I, right now, have no desire to tell the public about my eating disorder… but, I will see what I can do on the baby front, maybe also on the fake girlfriends… Before I got hospitalized, they eh mentioned renewing the contract with Eleanor, and if I can get out of that then I would be very happy.” Louis admits and he hears Harry swear quietly.

 

“They talked about bringing her back into the picture?” Harry snorts and shakes his head, “Because that would be so believable, that you would get back with your ex, after you’re rumoured to have cheated on her, had a baby and another relationship. God, they’re stupid.”

 

“Yeah, right? One would think they weren’t even trying. Well, anyways, I’ll send them a mail or something about it all. Don’t really wanna speak to them, you know.” Louis mumbles and looks out through the window. They’re almost home.

 

His stomach isn’t in knots anymore and he isn’t struggling to catch his breath. The music that is softly playing from the car radio helps his thoughts to keep quiet and he smiles as he looks over to see his boyfriend humming along to the songs. It feels as if it can all work out. He is ready to come home.


	12. In this kiss I'll change your bore for my bliss

Talking with management and the PR people have never been something Louis has enjoyed. They always have a way of making him feel small and uneducated, which yeah, he has never taken any courses in business or media or public relationships. So he might be a bit uneducated on the subject, but he has been in the music business for over six years now and he  _ has  _ learnt a thing or two about what sells and not. And he is also more aware of that he is a human being and that he is allowed to say no and stand up for himself when he doesn’t agree with what they want him to do, which is the situation he is in right now.

 

“But, Mr. Tomlinson, we do really think it would be beneficial for you to speak up to the public about your illness, it would help your public image. You see, now, they have this image of you being a ‘ _ bad boy’  _ and uncaring of what your actions do, the whole getting a random woman pregnant has in some ways damaged your reputation and we think this is the perfect way to bring it back. You struggling with an E.D will show them your soft side, that you are affected of everything that is going on and it will make you look a bit more human and there are a lot of teenage girls in your fanbase who will be able to relate to what you’re going through and by that you will get a lot of sympathy.  _ We  _ really think that you should consider this a bit more before you decline.” Mary, a woman with her hair put up in a tight bun that must be giving her a headache says. She is looking at him with what is supposed to be a sympathetic gaze, but all Louis can see is an annoyed woman talking to a child. He sighs and breaks eye contact with her.

 

“Well, it was you guys who brought on the whole ‘ _ getting a random woman pregnant’  _ thing on, so I don’t really trust your judgement on what will be good for my public image anymore, seeing how badly you fucked up.” Louis answers casually and he can hear Harry snort beside him, making a smirk creep up on his own face. He has been home for less than a week and it has done wonders for his and Harry’s relationship. Louis has found it more easy to open up about his feelings and they work together to rebuild the trust that got lost. And Louis is trying really hard to be okay with eating three meals a day and most days he does alright, he struggles, because of course he does and it is every meal that he manages to finish all of the small portion that the doctor has recommended. But he is trying and for most part he does fine. This is the first time he has left the house for something else than therapy though and he is itching to get back home and away from these people.

 

“A mistake on our part, yes. But as you are aware we had to do something to make One Direction relevant once Mr. Malik chose to leave, and for your interest it did work and the band’s sales and relevance got a great boost. So, all in all we still think that it was the right call to make.” Mary smiles fake sweetly at him. “And now we need to make you relevant again, because you are the only one in the band who has been completely silent during the break. Mr. Horan has just released his new single, Mr. Payne is constantly active on social media and he is working on an album. And as you are probably aware Mr. Styles has both been working on a movie and an album. So tell us now, Mr. Tomlinson, what have you amounted to?”

 

He feels heat filling up his cheeks and he cannot help the way his breathing stutters. What has he amounted to during the break? He has written a lot of shitty songs, lost over sixty pounds and spent about two months in a hospital room. He doesn’t have any plan of what he wants to do with the hiatus, not sure if he can do anything. There is a reason he didn’t make it as a solo artist on X-Factor, why he doesn’t have as many solos on the album as the rest of the band, why so many of the songs he writes doesn’t end up on the albums they had made. He isn’t good enough on his own, never has been and never will be. Louis’ hands are shaking and he is biting down on his lip, the pain grounding him and helping him to keep his breathing somewhat steady.

 

“That is not fair, Louis has been trying to regain control of his life after all stress you put on him drove him to self-hate and an eating disorder. You cannot possibly expect him to be focusing on anything else than getting healthy.” Harry speaks up, anger notable in his voice and Louis has to close his eyes for a moment and take a deep breath. Harry is right, he tells himself, it would be silly to expect Louis to be doing the things the other lads are on top of getting better.

 

“Mr. Styles, I am sure that Mr. Tomlinson can speak for himself.” another person of the five represents of management says.

 

“Harry is right though, I need to put all my focus on my health.” Louis says, voice coming out thin before he clears his throat and continues. “I have no need of being in the public’s eye right now, but if you really want me out there then I think you would get better headlines if you dropped the fake baby and cleared my name. It would take away a lot of stress from me and it would cause quite a stir in the fanbase and on social media. People will see what I was forced into and therefore see that it was not  _ I  _ who made a bad decision.”

 

“It would paint out us as bad guys though, and that is not what we’re trying to do here.” Mary says, “Although, if we gave a story of how you did a father’s test and it showed that Freddie was not your son… That could work, but it won’t come as a surprise to many of your fans since many are already suspicious, we could time this with you coming out as bisexual an-.”

 

“-I am not bisexual, I’m gay, I have no interest in girls what so ever.” Louis interrupts and Mary sighs deeply.

 

“Yes, we are aware of that Mr. Tomlinson. But you coming out as homosexual would be career suicide. We need you to be able to appeal  all genders and since most of your fans are female it would be stupid for you to say you only have interest in males. Also, it would mean that they would know all of your previous relationships have been fake and that you did not sleep with the mother of Freddie. We simply cannot allow you to do that.” Mary explains with a strained smile and Louis finds himself shaking his head.

 

“No way, if I am going to come out I will be honest and drop all of the lies. I’m not gonna do it like that.” Louis protests.

 

“Well then, we do not think you can come clean like that just yet. We think it would be in your best interest to tell the public of your eating disorder, it would explain to them why you have been away from the public’s eye for so long and why you are the only one who isn’t working on new music.” Mary says and Louis can tell by her strained face that she is just as ready as he is to be over and done with this meeting.

 

“I will not do that, so you can just forget about that. What I want and think would be  _ in my best interest  _ is to drop the fake baby. That is something that does put a lot of stress on me and if you want I can get Mr. Henson here to explain to you how it is affecting my recovery and I am sure my lawyer wouldn’t mind putting in a word of how these  _ working conditions  _ have affected my mental health.” Louis threatens and he can see the change in Mary’s expression and how he has struck a nerve. He won.

 

“That won’t be necessary, we will handle it and do all we can to accommodate you to a speedy recovery.” she says, “We will send you the plan through email within the end of the week, if you don’t have any other questions you are dismissed.”

 

Louis gives them a fake smile before slowly standing up, he doesn’t manage to avoid the black spots from clouding his vision momentarily. But he doesn’t sway where he stands and he doesn’t black out, so he counts it as a win. Harry grabs his hand and they both leave the room in silence. Once they are outside the room, Harry pulls him into a hug.

 

“You did so good in there, I am so proud of you.” he whispers into Louis’ hair and Louis feels himself relax against Harry’s chest and nod.

 

“It was hard, they make me feel so small.” he whispers and Harry presses a kiss to his forehead before looking into Louis’ eyes.

 

“I know, darling. But you made it, it’s over now.” Harry has a grin painted onto his face and his dimples seems to run deeper than usual and Louis can’t help but smile back at him and nod.

 

“I made it.” he whispers before Harry leans down, Louis stand on his tiptoes to meet him halfway. The kiss is sweet and both of them are smiling too big for it to turn into anything else than a peck.

 

“I love you” Harry mumbles against Louis’ lips and Louis smiles too big to be able to keep the kiss going. He drops his head onto Harry’s shoulder and kisses his through the fabric of his shirt and mumbles the words back.

 

They make their way back home soon after that and both of them are still sporting big silly smiles on their faces. Louis is somehow still amazed of how in love he finds himself being with Harry, even six years after they got together, he still feels like the giddy teenager he was when he first shared a kiss with Harry. And he feels so incredibly lucky to have found someone who makes him feel like this.

 

“You know what this calls for?” Harry asks once they enter their house. “ -Celebration sex.” he answers himself and winks at Louis who laughs, but feels a small panic build up inside of him. He has not been intimate with Harry for about a year, which wow is a really long time. He had not quite realised how much time had passed since their last sexual encounter and even then, it had only been Louis blowing Harry or giving him a hand job. Louis hadn’t been comfortable with receiving and with the lack of food in his system, well, he had had a hard time getting it up. The thought of having sex with Harry now unsettles him at the same time as it excites him. He used to love sex, and sex with Harry has always been great. But right now he feels nervous and slightly uncomfortable and he doesn’t know how to voice any of this. 

 

So he doesn’t. Instead he pulls Harry into an intense kiss and tries to lose himself in  the way Harry’s tongue feels against his own. His hands are tangled in Harry’s curls and he can hear the silent moan that escapes his boyfriend once he tugs a little at them. Harry’s own hands are on Louis’ back, but they aren’t really feeling him, Harry has left a small amount of space between his palms and Louis’ back. And Louis knows, he knows that Harry doesn’t want to feel how much his body has changed and how bony he must be. It hurts a little, the fact that Harry might be turned off by this version of him.

 

“Bedroom?” Harry pants against his lips and Louis barely has time to nod before Harry lifts him up so Louis has to hook his legs over Harry’s bum. He leta out a small yelp as he is lifted and bites down on his own lip, trying to push away the negative thoughts that cloud his mind. He is too heavy to be carried, even if Harry is strong, there is no way he isn’t struggling to lift him. But the look on Harry’s face is a mix of surprise and sadness and Louis can’t stand to see it so he kisses him. Harry stops walking and opts to push Louis up against the wall (gently) to be able to make out with him. It is hot and Louis can feel arousal stirring at the bottom of his stomach, he whimpers when he feels Harry grind up against him. He can feel Harry’s smile against his lips and Louis tugs at his hair to get rid of it, it works and Harry groans lowly before pulling away and dragging them over to the bedroom.

 

Louis’ nerves return when he is lying on the bed with Harry on top of him, kissing his neck. Harry is shirtless and Louis knows Harry wants him to take off his own shirt but he can’t. He can’t expose himself like that, he doesn’t have the confidence for it. He runs his hands up Harry’s naked back instead and can’t help the small moans that escape him every time Harry sucks down on certain parts of his neck. Harry then tugs at the bottom of Louis’ shirt as if to prompt him to take it off and Louis can’t do it.

 

“Wait.” he manages to whisper, his voice coming out weaker than he had tried to make it. “I-I don’t know if I can do this.” Louis admits and Harry looks so heartbroken for a moment before he nods and closes his eyes.

 

“That’s okay, I can wait. I shouldn’t have rushed you like this.” he mumbles and Louis reaches up with one of his hands to stroke Harry’s hair.

 

“It’s not your fault. I wanted to, but I… I don’t think I am ready yet.” Louis whispers and he can barely stand the disappointed frown on Harry’s face.

 

“No, I get it, it’s fine. I’m gonna go and shower.” Harry musters up a smile as he gets off of the bed and into the bathroom, leaving Louis alone. Louis lets out a long sigh and stares up at the ceiling, feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He doesn’t want to keep Harry waiting, doesn’t want to make him feel as if he isn’t getting enough out of this relationship, but Louis knows that with where he is right now, he cannot give Harry what he wants.

 

He wishes he could be enough.


	13. The Picture Never Drops

The lads come over a few days later for dinner. Harry has spent hours in the kitchen cooking something (Louis should know what it is since he has sat on the counter during it all, but he really cannot recall what it was). Louis is a bit nervous, he knows that Liam and Niall will judge him for not eating enough or for taking such small bites. Harry has learnt not to point it out and not to stare or be impatient when Louis takes forever to finish, which he is immensely grateful for. Because the thing is that he  _ knows,  _ Louis knows that he should eat a little faster, not cut the food in such small pieces and that he doesn’t need to chew every single bite for a minute. But he kind of has to, he doesn’t know how not to. And it does also not help that his right wrist still is in a cast (only for another week! yey!), so he is aware of how slowly he eats.

 

“You look so much better.” is the first thing Liam says when Louis opens the door for him and Niall, and it startles him. It is another thing that worries him and that he is somewhat aware of; he is gaining weight. And now, apparently, it is notable. And that kind of freaks him out, but Louis opts to smile awkwardly instead of freaking out and lets them into the house.

 

“Hope you’re hungry, Harry has been in the kitchen for ages.” Louis mentions and Niall immediately leaves for the kitchen, probably to see what Harry is cooking and discuss different recipies. Both Niall and Harry have become huge food nerds after turning twenty, Harry has always had interest in the cooking department, but more for baking and such (Louis is greatly thankful that Harry has toned that down. Having to smell the sweetness of whatever Harry had baked would have made both eating  _ and  _ not eating much harder).

 

“It smells really good.” Liam comments and Louis nods slightly and they both sit down on one of the living room’s couches as they wait for the food to be done. “So, uh, how are you feeling?”

 

“Eh, good? It’s nice to finally be out of the hospital and I talked to management a couple of days ago and they more or less agreed to get me out of the fake baby thing, so things are looking up, I think.” Louis answers.  Liam gives him a supportive smile and nods.

 

“That’s great! Does that mean you and Harry will be out soon?” he asks and Louis bites his lip and shrugs lightly.

 

“I mean, no, not really. Ehm, I’m not sure I’m ready to come out yet, I mean, of course I don’t like,  _ want  _ to hide, I would  _ love  _ to be able to hold Harry’s hand in public and like, let everyone know how much he means to me. But like, it’s kind of a uh big deal? I mean, people will talk and there will probably be a lot of backlash and hate coming our way. And with the state my mind is like, right now, I don’t think it would be very wise to come out and have to deal with all of that.” Louis explains and fidgets where he is sitting. Coming out is a difficult topic for him, because he both wants to do it and he is also terrified of doing it. His fright for it is probably fabricated by management and all of their speeches about why it is such a bad idea. Being told that you could ruin your career and sanity over the course of six years is bound to make you scared.

 

“Yeah, yeah, but as you said, it would be nice for you to like, not have to hide. Maybe it would take away some pressure and stress from you.” Liam suggests and Louis sighs and shrugs.

 

“It could also add a lot of stress and pressure. I don’t know man, we will come out eventually, but right now is not the time.” Louis ends the conversation and Liam shrugs. After a few beats of silence Harry pokes his head into the living room, telling them that dinner is ready. Louis gives him an uncomfortable smile and stands up.

 

Dinner smells amazing. Harry has made Indian-style meatballs with rice and some tomato based sauce and just the smell of it makes Louis’ mouth water, but his stomach fills with nerves and dread. Enjoying food is not good, it is one of the fastest ways to gain weight. Louis remembers looking forward to his next meal and the feeling of being so full you could barely move. Right now though, he feels like throwing up at the thought of eating. But still, he sits down at the table with a sigh and lets Harry decide the size of his portion (a tip they got from Dr Henson, if they both agreed Harry would decide how much Louis ate, they wouldn’t have to fight about the size of it). The portion looks impossible big, but when he glances at Liam’s he can tell that it isn’t. On Louis’ plate there is one meatball, maybe half a cup of rice and just a splash of sauce on the side. He should be able to finish it all.

 

He stares at the food for a while longer before taking a deep breath and beginning to cut the meatball into small pieces. He also finishes his glass of water and has it refilled before he takes his first bite. He chews the small piece of meatball and rice, counting to fifty before he swallows it down with some more water. He is aware that the lads are having some kind of conversation, but he cannot bring himself to participate in it, instead he focuses on cutting his food and taking the smallest amount into his mouth. Each bite he swallows is followed with a third worth of the water in his glass. He doesn’t know how many glasses of water he drinks during the meal, but he knows he is full before he even finishes half of the food on his plate. He puts his cutlery down and allows himself to focus on his friends.

 

They have all finished their food, except for Liam who is helping himself into a second (third?) plate. They’re all drinking wine and Louis can see how Harry’s cheeks are beginning to flush and that he has unbuttoned another button of his shirt. He looks good, and happy, he looks at ease in a way Louis hasn’t seen him be in a while and he feels bad for making his boyfriend worry so much about him. He should be better. Harry deserves to be happy at all times and not only when he has had a few glasses of wine and friends to talk with. Louis should make him happier.

 

With those thoughts in mind, Louis looks back to his plate and forces himself to finish it all, not bothering  to make the pieces small or drink water between each bite. He manages to get it down in record time and his stomach protests. He’s too full and it hurts. But he meets Harry’s eyes over the table and the proud smile and the way his boyfriend eyes light up when he notices Louis’ empty plate is worth it. Maybe. Louis tries to tune into to conversation, but his stomach is aching badly and he wants nothing more than to throw it up.

 

They’re talking about music and their own solo projects and what they want to get out of the break. It makes Louis feel even sicker. He really should be making something out of this break instead of sitting on his ass during it. Harry is about to start filming for a movie in just a couple of weeks and then he is going to work on his solo album. Liam is working on a few songs with some other artists and Niall has already released his first solo single. All of these are projects which terrify Louis and makes him wonder if they’re ever going to get back into a band. They don’t need Louis to make a living, they can manage on their own, write songs, act, tour, do interviews; everything without him. But he, Louis, he can’t do anything on his own. The only thing he has managed during their break is to lose a lot of weight and now he is trying to gain it back. He can’t achieve anything, he can’t do it on his own, and the only thing he has planned to do is something he doesn’t even really want to.

 

He doesn’t want to gain weight, doesn’t want to throw away all the work he put in to lose it. He doesn’t want to hate his body and be ashamed of the way his jeans are too small, shirts are too tight and how he takes up too much place. He can’t go back to that. He just can’t.

 

Louis stands up suddenly and tries to give them all a polite smile.

 

“Just gotta use the loo, be back in a minute.” he explains at their wondering faces and then hurries off into the direction of the bathroom. Tears are threatening to spill from his eyes, but he wills them to stay in and tries to focus on his breathing. He barely has time to lock the bathroom door and kneel down infront of the toilet before he begins throwing up. He knows he has limited time before any of the lads will come looking for him so he doesn’t stop to catch his breath before he forces his fingers down his throat. Repeating the action and making sure nothing more will come up Louis stands upright and sways a bit as he is struck with a dizzy spell. He flushes the toilet and rinses his mouth in the sink before examining himself in the mirror. He looks pale and his cheeks are puffy, making him look chubbier than usual. Louis frowns and sighs before looking away. He wonders if he will ever be satisfied with his own reflection. Probably not.

 

He washes his hands thoroughly before leaving the bathroom and walking back to the dining table.  

 

“We’re gonna head over to the living room and put in a movie or something, got any suggestions?” Harry asks and walks over to Louis, kissing his cheek. Louis can smell the wine on his breath and he tries not to flinch at the sweet smell.

 

“I’m okay with just about anything, maybe some action?” Louis suggest and Liam nods immediately.

  
“It was ages since I saw the Thor movies.” Liam hints and Niall snorts, but they decide to watch the first one either way. The couch is very comfortable and Louis can’t help but lean his head against Harry’s shoulder and closing his eyes. He is overcome with tiredness even if the clock isn’t much later than nine. And he also feels bad for throwing up, although he can’t bring himself to regret it. It had to be done and he did it. But he knows that Harry would be sad if he knew and if Dr Henson knew Louis would probably have to go back to the hospital and they would try to persuade him into going to a clinic. He doesn't want that, Louis can handle this on his own. He  _ can  _ handle it. He has to.


	14. Let your heart decide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of talking in this? Don't really know how that happened...

Another week passes and Louis doesn’t do very much of anything. He eats a bit less, which has Harry sending him worried glances and having hushed phone calls which Louis suspects are with Dr Henson. He has managed to write some lyrics during the week, nothing he feels worthy to be put into a song, but enough to get it out of his head.

 

At the moment he is sitting inside Dr Henson’s office, getting his blood pressure measured. They have yet to begin the therapy session, as usual opting to get medical check ups done before. He hasn’t had to step onto the scale yet, but he knows that once his measurements are done that’s where he is heading. He really doesn’t want to. He is so close to crossing 110 pounds and it is making him feel sick just thinking about it.

 

“You ready?” Dr Henson asks once he’s done and Louis sighs deeply but shrugs.

 

“As ready as I’ll ever get.” he responds before standing up and walking over to the scale, Dr Henson following closely behind.

 

_ 109.8 _

 

Louis takes a deep breath, staring at the number, daring it to move up to 110, but it doesn’t. He looks over to Dr Henson instead, who is scribbling down the number in his notebook before motioning for Louis to take a seat on the couch. Louis does so and watches his therapist sit down on the arm chair in front of him.

 

“So, Louis, how are you feeling today?” he asks.

 

“Okay, I eh I was scared to cross the 110 mark, but not today, apparently.” he answers truthfully and his therapist nods, takes notes and clicks his pen.

 

“Why does passing 110 scare you?”

 

“It’s…” Louis swallows and shakes his head. “I feel like it’s a big milestone, just as 100 was, is… but I didn’t have to like watch myself pass 100, since I was hospitalized at the time. But now I am gaining weight because  _ I  _ am choosing to  _ eat _ . And like I know that 110 is still underweight, but it isn’t severe, is it? It’s just moderately… And uh Zayn, he uh used to weigh around 110 or 120 or whatever, and he looked good. So I mean staying at 110 or close to it doesn’t sound very bad to me. I eh think I could uhm be comfortable with my body if I stayed at this weight.” Louis confesses with a sigh.

 

“For someone your age and height 110 is still severe underweight and a health risk. Your BMI is at 16 when your lowest healthy BMI would be at 19 or 20, preferably 20. And for you to have a BMI at 20 you have to weigh at least 133 pounds, and even then you could gain another forty pounds and still be at a good weight” Dr Henson explains while jotting down notes. “Zayn is the guy who left the band last year, right?” Dr Henson asks and continues speaking once Louis has confirmed this. “You and him were good friends, yeah? Have you spoken with him lately?”

 

“I uh no? We haven’t spoken in at least six months, why are you asking?”

 

“I think it would be good for you to reach out to him and try to mend your relationship. Actually, I’m gonna give you this in homework; until next time we have a session I want you to have  _ at least  _ sent a text message to him.”

 

“That’s...no what? Why is that important?” Louis asks and shakes his head. He is not reaching out to Zayn. Not when Zayn was the one who choose to leave and side with his  _ new  _ friend when he could have sided with Louis. He had made it very clear that he did not want nor need Louis in his life.

 

“It is important because he was a huge part of your life and you seem to have a slightly idealized view of him, since you mention his body being one you wouldn’t mind having. Reconnecting with him may help you get over that and also… don’t you wish you could have your friend back?” 

 

Of course Louis wishes he could have his friend back. He misses Zayn like crazy and has  for the last few months tried to push him into the back of his mind, and it has worked. Mostly. There have been times when he’ll see something cool on his instagram feed and he will screenshot it and be seconds away from sending it to Zayn before he remembers. And there are times when he wishes he could talk to him, let him in on what’s going on inside his head and have him help him sort it out. They used to be good like that, Zayn and him. They could talk about serious stuff, the things that mattered, the thoughts that now have driven Louis so far inside his head that he can’t see clearly. Maybe Zayn was his sanity.

 

“I guess a text wouldn’t hurt.” Louis finally mumbles with a sigh.

 

“Good. Now, Harry has mentioned you have had more trouble finishing your food this week than you usually do. Any comment on that?” Dr Henson asks, eyes darting around Louis’ face.

 

“I don’t know. I uh… I guess I had a bit of a relapse last week and uh got back into the thinking of how I am throwing away all my uh ‘hard work’...” 

 

“With ‘hard work’ I guess you are referring to losing all that weight?” Louis nods. “Well then, think of all hard work you are now putting into gaining weight and to live. Think of how what you used to veiw as hard work only was a safe card to a premature death, and how you are now working to survive and live many years to come. How you now will wake up every morning without being in pain or light headed and how you’ll be able to eat your favourite foods without feeling shame and that one day you’ll be able to look into the mirror and recognize how good you are. Inside and out. That is what all your hard work is put into securing. That is the goal. Can you be happy with that, or do you feel as if it is all for nothing?” Dr Henson’s voice isn’t judgemental as he asks, but Louis can feel his cheeks heating up with shame as he looks down.

 

“I… I really want to believe all that and see that that is what I am recovering for, but I can’t help but wonder if it will be worth it, you know? I could die any day, anyone can and… I just want to be in control, that’s all I want, to have control over something. And for some reason I am set on controlling my weight. And to just give up that control for something that might be? I don’t know if it will be worth it. I really want it to be, but I don’t know if it can.”

Dr Henson nods at Louis’ confession and scribbles down words into his notebook before looking back up at Louis.

 

“We will talk more about control in our next session and see how we can make you feel more in control over your recovery. Thank you for being so honest, it will help the process a lot, so that’s good, Louis.” Dr Henson says and looks at the clock. “One more thing before we finish up here, your relapse; was it only your train of thought changing or did you take physical action? As in purging, skipping a meal, going to the gym or using laxatives?”

 

“Eh..” Louis hesitates before shaking his head, letting the lie come out of his mouth. “No, nothing like that. Just my thinking.”

 

“That’s good, Louis.” Mark says. “Well, that was all for today, but I want you to try and find worth in your recovery and also send that text until next time, alright?”

 

“Alright.”

 

They say their goodbyes and Louis walks out of the office only to find Harry waiting for him. Dr Henson’s office is in a private building which means no paparazzis will be around and see them entering or leaving together. Harry gives him a hug once he is close enough and Louis leans into it, breathing in the scent of his boyfriend. He is suddenly overcome with exhaustion, a common occurrence after his therapy sessions.

 

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” Harry whispers and Louis nods tiredly. Home sounds good.

 

The ride home was uneventful and had Louis mostly staring out into nothing while Harry drove them in silence.

 

“You told Mark I hadn’t been eating well.” Louis mumbles once they’re inside, he tries to sound neutral about it but he can’t help the accusing tone his voice takes.

 

“I- yeah, I did. I was worried…” Harry answers with a frown. “Are you upset about it?”

 

“A bit, I guess and I know I shouldn’t be, because obviously you will worry. But, I don’t know, I think I would have wanted you to confront me about it before you called Henson.” Louis admits and Harry nods.

 

“Okay, that’s fair. Was your session alright otherwise?”

 

“Yeah, I got to talk about some things that I needed out of my head… He wants me to text Zayn, says it would be good for me to try to mend our relationship and have him back in my life.”

 

“Oh, that’s uh a bit out of the blue? But sure, I mean you were great friends so it would probably be good for you to have him back.”

 

“Yeah, I think I agree, but it’s a bit awkward. I don’t really know what to say, like I don’t want to send a text telling him that my therapist advised me to get in touch with him, you know?” Louis sighs.

 

“Ask him how things are and then you can build it from there. I think he’ll be glad to hear from you. Liam has been in contact with him quite regularly and apparently he always asks about you and if you’ve asked for him. I think he misses you just as much as you miss him…” Harry confesses and Louis feels himself relax a bit.

 

“That’s actually very comforting to hear.” Louis says and smiles before softly kissing his boyfriend. He pulls back a moment later and watches how Harry slowly opens his eyes, a dazed look covering his face.

 

“How is it that you still manage to make me breathless by just kissing me?” he asks and Louis can’t help but snort and shake his head.

 

“You are so cheesy.”

 

“No, but it’s true. I still get just as overwhelmed now as I did six years ago. It’s crazy.”

 

“It’s love.” Louis answers and he can feel himself blushing as he says it. 

 

“Now who’s the cheesy one?” Harry laughs before lowering his voice. “You’re right though, it is because I’m still as deeply in love with you as I’ve ever been. I’m so happy to have you.”

 

“Me too, I love you so much. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Louis whispers.

 

“Me neither, good thing we never have to find out…”

 

“We do though, you’re going to have 14 hour work days for weeks now with the movie, and then you’re going to the U.S to finish your album. We’re going to be away from each other a lot.” Louis whispers and worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

 

“We will, but I’ll be able to come home from filming every other night, and we can face time and call and text, so we’ll still  _ see  _ each other.” Harry puts a hand on Louis’ thigh and Louis is for once struck by how small his thigh looks compared to Harry’s hand. He forces himself to look away. “And, you could come with me to the U.S, I would love to write some songs with you, you know?”

 

“I know… but like this is  _ your  _ album and also Dr Henson hasn’t cleared me to leave. I still have my weigh ins once a week and therapy sessions twice, so I can’t just go.” Louis sighs. “And I also have my mum, I want to be here if something happens, you know.”

 

“Of course, I’m sorry. We’ll make it work, we’ve had to do it before and we will be able to do it again.”

 

Harry is right, they have had to be apart from each other for a couple of weeks before, but this feels different. Maybe it is because Louis is different now. That he no longer just worries, but puts his worrying into action and fucks himself up. He is more dependant on Harry and Harry’s support and he can longer just brush uff things that disturb him. 

 

He isn’t as strong as he used to be.


	15. A generation lost in pace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter before the epilogue. Hope you have enjoyed the story.

Good news: Louis finally gets rid of the cast on his arm. Bad news: Harry starts filming and is barely home.

 

And here’s what happens. On the first day Louis eats the three prepared meals Harry left in the fridge (he had apparently made some deal that made sure Louis would be able to have three freshly prepared portions of food every day Harry would be gone. Which is good because Louis knows he would never cook for himself). He takes ages to finish, like honestly ages, probably about 2 hours for each meal. And he stares blankly at the wall while he chews. Each bite making him feel more and more like failure. He texts Zayn sometime before lunch and gets an answer before dinner and now has a planned Facetime session with him in three days. And before Louis goes to bed he Facetimes Harry and they talk for an hour. 

 

Second day Louis eats breakfast, throws up, cries, skips lunch and then forces himself to eat dinner. He also has a session with Mark where he doesn’t mention his relapse, but opts to talk about how good the prepared food is. He talks with his mum, makes plans to visit her soon, Facetimes with Harry and falls asleep.

 

Third day, Louis skips breakfast, stays in the music room and plays the piano and writes a bit. He “misses” lunch by an hour and decides it’s too late to eat it now. And by dinner time he throws out the food he hasn’t eaten. He Facetimes Harry and listens to Harry talk about life as an actor and Louis mentions writing some new lyrics and then actually shares it with Harry. He doesn’t mention not eating. And then, when they’ve hung up Louis lies in bed and stares up at the ceiling, willing his stomach to settle down. It’s upset by the lack of food and Louis is upset for already feeling hunger. Before he could go at least 36 hours before his stomach would begin complaining. He doesn’t sleep very well.

 

Fourth day, Louis doesn’t eat breakfast or lunch, but takes a long relaxing bath, throws out the food and then sets the table. Harry comes home and they eat dinner and Louis feels awful for wishing Harry would leave again, just so he could starve himself in peace.

 

The thing is that it is so damn easy for him to fall right back into the mindset and behaviour he now has worked months on to erase. And he doesn’t feel all that guilty or bad for stepping back into it. He welcomes it and thrives in it. He has missed it, he realises. He has missed the hunger pains that seem like an accomplishment he has earned by not eating. He has missed being able to measure his success in numbers ticking down on the scale. And this time, he is alone most days and able to just not eat. One problem will be his weekly weigh ins if he continuously loses weight. Mark will know something is up if he as much as loses one pound. So Louis buys a scale since his old one is hidden (or thrown?). And then before his sessions Louis chugs a lot of water and awkwardly puts some small weighs in his underwear (after checking his weight at home first so he knows how much he should compensate). And it works. He has everyone fooled and that makes everything easier.

 

So he continues. He does everything he has planned to do. He Facetimes Zayn and both of them cry a little and apologize and Louis doesn’t tell him about his E.D, but he feels as if he at least has a part of Zayn back. He visits his mum, cries a bit with her when she tells him she doesn’t have long left and promises her he will look after himself (she had been so sad when she saw what was left of him, how skinny he had become and that right there made Louis question what he was doing, but after eating a full lunch in her hospital room he remembered his reasons). He does a PR-stunt, which involves him looking upset while walking out of a medical clinic where he apparently got the news he wasn’t Freddie’s dad. - The reaction to that has been mostly good, not many were surprised and Louis finds himself breathing a bit easier. But, a lot of the reaction was focused on Louis’ drastic weight loss and a lot of people began speculating on why he was in the hospital before. That is a bit unsettling because Louis knows it is just a matter of time before almost everyone will have it figured out. But at the same time he can’t really find himself to care.

 

Which is why he is now, on a Thursday morning Facetiming with Harry who has gone of to the U.S to finish his album.

 

“I think I should go Christmas shopping maybe, I mean I want to get out of the house and we need new decoration since I still can’t find the last one. And I also want to get my siblings their gifts…” Louis ponders out loud and Harry smiles softly at him.

 

“Yeah? I think that sounds good, some fresh air and new scenery is always good. Don’t forget to call in a driver and security though.” Harry answers and pauses briefly before continuing. “And make sure to buy something pretty, the decoration we bought the first year we were living together was awful. I want something stylish, but yet playful…”

 

“Babe, I’ll get us some fairy lights in fun colours and that’s probably all. We can order things online together and we can’t get a tree yet, since it’s only November.” Louis explains and Harry sighs.

 

“It’s  _ already  _ November, time really flies. I feel like this year has passed in the blink of an eye as I at the same time feel as if it has been going on forever.”

 

“I feel you.” Louis mumbles and sighs. It’s been almost a year since he began thinking of losing weight, but it feels as if that’s all he has ever cared about. He can’t recall a time where he did not feel disgusted by his body or when he could eat and not feel guilty. Harry glances at the clock on his wrist and sighs.

 

“I have to go, we’re gonna try and choose the single today.”

 

“That’s exciting! I should get the shopping done, but I’ll talk with you tomorrow?” Louis asks uncertainly.

 

“Of course babe, love you.”

 

“Love you too.”

 

They hang up and Louis lets out a long sigh before curling in on himself. His stomach hurts a lot today. With a whimper he uncurls and stands up, swaying for a moment before making his way over to the kitchen where he fills a big glass with water. He gulps it down without stopping to breathe and when he’s done his stomach lets out a loud rumble. Louis lets himself breathe for a few seconds before refilling the glass and downs it as well. It makes his stomach settle a bit.

 

An hour later Louis finds himself in a shopping center with a small list of things to buy and a security guard following him around closely. He hasn’t gotten spotted by any fans yet, but that might be because of his appearance. He is dressed in some loosely fitting jeans (which he had to buy a new belt for to be able to wear them at all) and an oversized red adidas hoodie. He is also wearing a beanie because his hair looked way worse than usual (Louis doesn’t remember it ever looking so thin and lifeless).

 

He gets spotted eventually, but by then he has managed to check off more than half of the stuff on his list and his legs are dead tired. The fans who spot him ask for a picture each and Louis smiles and complies.

 

“Are you okay?” one of them ask, she looks to be a bit younger than the other two, probably around fourteen. She has blonde long hair and her blue eyes are wide and concerned.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I am good, love. Just a bit tired.” Louis answers and tries to make his smile believable. Truth is that he isn’t okay, he is tired and lightheaded and he is so so so cold.

 

He lets them film a short video where he says hi to some of their friends before they leave him. Louis is finding it a bit hard to breathe and turns to his guard to tell him he’s ready to go home. Before he manages to open his mouth to speak he feels a chill run up his spine and he doesn’t have any time to think or speak before he falls and everything turns black.

 

When he blinks awake again he comes face to face with his security guard who is hunched down beside him.

 

“You alright, lad?” the man asks and Louis gulps and nods slowly. His head hurts and he feels sick to his stomach, but he’s still breathing. “Do you think you can stand up?”

 

When Louis nods again the guard helps him up to his feet. Once Louis is standing he sways and would probably have fallen over had it not been for the strong arm wrapped under his shoulders. Louis can now see that a crowd has gathered around hima and that several people have their phones out, probably filming the incident. Louis sighs and shakes his head lightly. Sometimes he just really really hates being famous.

 

It takes them some time, but they manage to leave the shopping center, the security guard only has to shout at a few people who are in the way. Once outside the car is waiting for them and Louis hops in the backseat and lets himself rest against the seat. He shuts his eyes and tries to find a way to make this okay.

 

“Should we take you to the hospital or Dr Henson’s office?” the guard asks and Louis sighs again and shrugs.

 

“Henson’s, I guess.” he mumbles and he can feel tears burn in the corner of his eyes. He is fucked.

 

The car ride there is much shorter than Louis remembers it ever being, he is vaguely aware that the security guard called Mark and informed him of the situation and that they were on their way. Louis does not look forward to talk with Mark.

 

The guard follows Louis into the building, probably to make sure he doesn’t pass out on the way and doesn’t leave until Dr Henson has opened the door. Louis doesn’t bother greeting Mark or saying bye to the guard, opting instead to sit down in the recliner Henson has in his office. Louis pulls his knees up to his chest and he hears Mark exchange a few words with the guard before he sits down in a chair in front of Louis.

 

“Are you hurt?” Dr Henson asks first and Louis shrugs and looks down.

 

“My head hurts.” he whispers and Mark walks over to his desk to get something and then returns.

 

“I have to check if you have a concussion, so if you would look up that would be helpful.” Louis sighs but looks up and lets Mark shine the flashlight in his eyes. He hums after a few seconds and turns off the light. “You seem fine on that front. Now Louis, would you like to tell me when the last time you ate was?”

 

The question isn’t really a question, Louis knows he can’t just shrug his way out of this. So Louis takes a deep breath before he speaks. 

 

“Two days ago. I ate some apple.” more like three bites of an apple. Mark nods and writes something in his notes.

 

“When did your relapse begin? Do you know what triggered it?” Dr Henson asks and Louis looks down.

 

“Nothing  _ triggered  _ it. It was basically when Harry left to eh film the movie. It’s uh harder to eat when I’m alone and then I just went back to my old habits and kept pushing it. I lied to Harry and threw out the food before he would come home so he’d think I had eaten. And I put weighs in my clothing before coming to our session so you wouldn’t figure it out.” Louis admits and listens to the sound of pen writing on paper.

 

“Okay, so about a month then. Do you have any weighs on you now?” Mark asks and Louis shakes his head. “I want you to change into the gown and then we’ll check your weight. I will also check your blood pressure and take a sample of your blood.”

 

Louis nods tiredly and walks into the screened area and changes into the hospital gown. He walks back into the room and steps on to the scale when Mark asks him to.

 

_ 94 _ .

 

Louis steps off the scale before Mark can ask him to. Louis had already known what he weighed more or less, since he had kept track of it in order to fool Mark before. Mark doesn’t say anything and Louis avoids eye contact and sits down again, letting Mark do the rest of the medical procedure.

 

“I am going to refer you to an eating disorder clinic a bit north of London. It is a really good clinic and they take privacy very seriously, so the public won’t know your whereabouts.” Mark says and Louis can feel his heart skip a beat and his eyes water.

 

“You can’t send me there against my will.” Louis whispers and tries not to let his voice break.

 

“I can if I think you are a danger to yourself, which you have proved to be. You will spend three months there as an indoor patient and then we will see how we should proceed.”

 

Louis cannot stop the tears from falling down his cheeks and he lifts up his knees to his chest and buries his face in them. He hates crying in front of people. But the thought of having to go to rehab and leave the comfort of his home and family for a such long period of time terrifies him. But at the same time he knows he can’t stay at home anymore, he is not well enough to be on his own and cannot be trusted to make decisions for himself.

 

He is a danger to himself.


	16. It takes a fool to remain sane

It is snowing the day he gets out of the clinic. The March air is cold and dry and Louis feels scared to leave the place that over the course of five months has managed to become a safety to him. Harry will soon be here to pick him up but, at the moment, Louis is alone and waiting. There aren’t any people outside the clinic and Louis debates whether or not he should go back inside and wait, because he is about two seconds away from having his teeth clattering. The cold air is refreshing, though, and Louis would rather not ever have to step his foot back into the clinic. - Not because it has been awful being there, it has actually been quite alright, but because he is afraid he’ll lose his nerve and stay there where he is safe. Safe from relapses and press. But, the doctors and therapists there have managed to make Louis see his disorder from a new perspective and he finds it much easier to push away the negative thoughts that come his way and instead focus on all that is good. 

 

He doesn’t see himself as a failure anymore, he isn’t fat and he isn’t a bad friend, boyfriend or a liar. He is human. And he will make mistakes and he will go through rough times and sometimes he may slip up and feel bad about himself, but now he knows that he can and will pull through. That it is worth it. He doesn’t deserve to starve or hate himself; he deserves to feel happy and enjoy food and live life without any worries.

 

The road to recovery hasn’t been all good though. At first, when Louis arrived to the clinic, he was so mad and sad and he felt really abandoned. He had not wanted to be there. The clinic’s no visitor rule had sucked. He had not gotten to see Harry and he had felt so lonely, being forced to stay at a place where he didn’t know anyone. And in the middle of his first month at the clinic, his mother had died.

 

That had been one of the hardest truths Louis ever had to face. That his mother was dead. He had gotten to leave the clinic for the funeral and when he got back he slipped deeper into his disorder and had to be tube fed for a while before his therapist managed to talk him out of it. He still misses her like crazy and he is sure that he always will. But he knows that she would be proud of him for managing to face his own battles and recover as well as he has.

 

Tires running on gravel snaps him out of his thoughts and when he looks up, Harry’s car stops a few feet away from him. His boyfriend gets out of the car, hair longer than it had been when they last saw each other at the funeral and his cheeks flushed red from rushing.

 

“I am so sorry I’m late, traffic was a nightmare.” Harry says as he walks over to the smaller man and wraps Louis into a hug. Louis lets out a long breath and hugs Harry tightly, nuzzling his head into his neck.

 

“No worries, love.” Louis whispers and then takes a step back and sighs. “It is so good to see you.”

 

Harry laughs wetly and nods, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

 

“You too, you looks great. God, I’ve missed you.” Harry says and Louis can see relief in Harry’s eyes and feels himself get a bit choked up. He has put Harry through  so much worrying and he understands that seeing Louis now, compared to the skeleton he resembled last year, must be a huge relief. 

 

Louis is still slightly underweight and the doctors explained that he might not be able to gain more weight, because of the starvation his body was put through. But he is no longer about to fall over if he stands up too fast and most importantly; he no longer feels the need to starve himself. He has gotten so much better.

 

He feels himself start to smile as he realises that he is finally able to go home.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels a bit too rushed? I don't know, I'm really happy with this story over all though, and I am so thankful for everyone that has read it. Thank you.


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